


Korrigan : The Harbinging

by GrumpkinVicky



Series: The Korrigan [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Avvar, Bears, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Emotional Manipulation, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Grey Wardens, MCiT, Memory Alteration, Mythological character in thedas, Not Canon Compliant, Prophetic Dreams, Unreliable Narrator, Wingfic, other!herald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2020-06-27 18:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 82,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19796221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpkinVicky/pseuds/GrumpkinVicky
Summary: How do you solve a problem like Korrigan? The breach has sort of closed, they semi won, shame about the dreams that continue to come.Varric, Solas and Cullen ably aided by Cadash are tasked with heading out with the small Korrigan to set the world to rights, battling misdirection, manipulation and bears, lots of bears.





	1. Cove

**Author's Note:**

> A prologue that doesn't belong with the other prologues, short and sweet with our helpful soldier stepping in once again.

The soldier hadn’t even considered it compulsion at this point, it was achingly similar to what had happened earlier, he could see the iron underneath the Mage who was cradling his charge. She was not to touch the floor there, and it seemed right to take her all the way back. He could feel her body curl into the warmth of the furs, her breath slow and steady, soundless but the air catching the fronds of the fur and stirring them. She would survive, he knew she would, but not if she remained up here, too dangerous, too cold, too unknown now.

They dispatched straggling demons that had either been missed or had fallen between the hordes had traversed to the top, nothing stopped them as they made their way back down. The Commander, and the two Hands catching up and over taking with nary a word until they met back up at the bottom where he passed the small one into the arms of the Commander. Who had been the only one willing to hold his arms out, covered in the thick fur that identified him amongst the training field which was his normal habitat.

They were dismissed, he had taken steps to head to the blacksmiths to cancel the order, but the not right feeling crept in and he ignored the destination to head to the tavern with the others. A great weight gone and the flame of hope grew until it warmed his bones. Whatever happened next, it would be all right. They would endure, they would overcome, they would win.

The rest of the day was spent in good company, good food, tall tales as the rest of the small army returned back down, and a comely woman who dragged him back to her bunk for a pleasant roll and peaceful dreams.


	2. Cullen

They had spent the trip down having an unnerving conversation, the two women had argued between them at what had happened, how it had happened. Roles reversing with each argument, neither agreeing or disagreeing. As far as he knew it made no difference. Yes, they had known what was going to happen, but not when, not how, and they _had_ been stopped from preventing it. The guilt was real, he would atone in the only way he knew how, but it didn’t change what had happened or what they needed to do to make it right.

“So what will we do with her?” he had hesitated to ask, he hadn’t had much interaction beyond the few moments when she had popped up behind a demon that had been swinging for his neck, closed the rift and then again when they had taken down Pride. It was unsettling, the lack of expression, but then that smile, it was if the Maker himself was there offering benefaction to them, and it would all be as it should be.

“We protect her,” well thanks Cassandra, he hadn’t thought they were going to leave her out for the wolves. Although it might be kinder than what some would do to her, the Chantry would have kittens to have the only hope to be a small dirty child who spoke before she was spoken to.

“She’ll need a parent figure, of some kind, I’m loathed to rely on the Mage, not until we can ascertain more about him. Whatever has been affecting us doesn’t see him as a threat, but that just means he isn’t to her. I don’t trust it to consider a threat to us, to the Inquisition.” Cheery thoughts as ever Leliana, instruct them in one breath to welcome him and then as soon as the immediate threat is over suspicious. Her role, but Maker’s breath it sat like a stone in his stomach.

“So we are going ahead with it? Even now, even considering what has happened?” a dangerous question to ask of the devout, he would prefer them to take a breath before setting themselves up against the Chantry. Just a breath, but the intractable glint in both sets of eyes answered it for him. “I see, so what is the plan for her, Cassandra has spent the-” he couldn’t finish the sentence before they both interjected.

“No!”

“Not in the slightest, I can’t!” He’d been expecting Cassandra to perhaps object slightly, she liked to portray the antithesis of womanhood as a reaction to her family, at least when she was in public. Leliana though was unlikely to take over motherhood, and Josephine was too soft to be of use as a true defender if the need arose.

“Lysette?” the blank look from Cassandra and the wrinkle of a nose from Leliana spoke volumes, “Cass, I don’t think you want Flissa to take over, she can barely keep the tavern under control never mind handing over a small child, Lysette has training to keep her safe,”

“Are you just running down all the women you know in Haven, Cullen?” Leliana’s tone changed to a playful teasing, and he felt his skin burn, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“I have a whole army full of women I know, I’m just offering suggestions, I’m trying to be helpful, we need a solution and I am out of my depth.” Great, he had squeaked as well, this was why he avoided conversations with the two of them alone, they were far meaner than when they were in public. He felt like he had back in Honnleath, back with his sisters who teased him mercilessly.

“You haven’t been using the room in the chantry, and there are three of us who are happy to share, there is a delightful cabin just standing empty for such a reason, plenty of room for a parent and child, even a partition so work can be done while a child sleeps...”

“A wonderful idea, who could argue with the child being cared for by the Commander, he has younger siblings, and he looked after small mages in the circle, no one could say we shirked our responsibility. Out in the field, she will be cared for by us, but in Haven here could be no better guardian.” Thanks again Cassandra, thanks. He couldn’t force sound to leave his throat, as they just railroaded past him.

“We’ll make sure you have a servant to help with the housekeeping, we can’t have you piling up dirty clothes in the corners now can we.” Thanks, Maker's breath, thanks, if he could just sink into the deep roads that would be wonderful.

“Isn’t it a shame that we didn’t think of this beforehand, we could have had it all set up for your return, I’m sure you’ll want to go and settle in,” blasted Cassandra, he didn’t understand why she wouldn’t take care of her? She was far better suited, she had the right parts, he would crush the child just by picking her up, his hands looked like they were bigger than her middle.

“Not to worry Cullen, the servants have arranged for the move whilst we were gone...” he groaned, of course, of course this was what had been planned, he wouldn’t have been shocked if it hadn’t been done days ago. At this rate he would change colour permanently.

“I’m sure you’ll show me where you two schemers have decided where my living quarters are to be,” he couldn’t help his tone biting the words out. All his previous goodwill gone, no longer was there an unknowing force controlling him, no instead it was worse, it was meddling sisterly females.

“We’ll wait for your charge and then take you home hmm,” she winked slyly at him before turning over words in her mouth, “how is your Orlesian?”

“I’m Fereldan!” She tittered at him, “My King would be most offended if I was to take up the heathen language that is so inferior to the right and proper one.” Perhaps a little strong but she merely grinned at him.

“Would you like to know what she uttered before the breach stilled?” In all honesty, he hadn’t been close enough to hear anything beyond the sound of words. “I shall take that as a yes, “There are nine korrigan dancing with flowers in their hair and white woollen dresses around the fountain in the full moonlight” but then she said that now there was only one. Odd no, one so small should be so fluent in two languages.”

“You are giving me an Orlesian child to look after? However will I cope hmm, I shall have to take her in hand and show her the right way about things, the Fereldan way, as small as she is it won’t take long for the heathen in her to vanish.” He winked back at Leliana, the mood lighter as the decision had settled on him. Cassandra shoved him gently with her shoulder as they rounded into the village.

They were greeted by happy faces where they had left fear and misery. A gamut of emotions played out over the last day, they could see the small unit who had taken his new ward down from the breach, he glanced at the other two as they got closer, questioning if it really was the best course of action, him, a father, but yes it would fall to him.

He opened his arms, cushioning them with his own thick pelt, before nestling her securely. “Lead on, destiny awaits and all that, and quite frankly I would like to take off this blasted armour and sleep until the next age,” a finger brushed the tangled mess of hair off the child's face, this was the future, his future and he would be damned if it didn’t seem brighter.


	3. Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Best laid plans

To find himself being directed away from the dwarf and into a cabin, was not exactly what he was expecting on their arrival back at the village. He had hoped to be able to eat and then talk to them about where he could rest, but instead it seemed they had other plans. The warmth though, that had been welcome.

A table with four chairs pushed around it was opposite the fire that warmed the room to a toasty summers day, divided off from what he guessed would be beds behind a thin wall. What he really hadn’t accounted for was the Commander, Cullen as Varric had informed him, to poke his head out to greet him with a relieved smile.

“Cullen, I am glad you returned with the others, I have no idea what I’m doing and I’ve been told you are the man to ask!” Solas must have looked bewildered at the statement, because the smile dropped from relieved to wavering hope, “You are here to help?” It was almost like before where the conversation hung awkwardly until the right words were spoken, but this felt more like he was missing an essential part of the communication. “You did heal her, earlier, yes?”

“She’s alive?” Of course, of course she’s alive, if the world fell every time she had died in the visions why would it be allowed for her to be dead at the end of the day. “Solas, pleased to make your acquaintance Cullen,” his manners kicked in, the man had offered up his name unasked after all, and the relief returned to the worried face.

“She is alive, but won’t stir, she won’t have eaten since being brought here, and no one has mentioned if she’s had anything to drink. She’s not cold, but not warm, and I don’t want to touch her until there is someone else to help, they assured me they would send help, I thought they just meant a servant, but a healer is of far more use.” The tone was bordering on frantic, “They left her with me, and then left!” He couldn’t help the muffled chuckle that escaped much to the chagrin of Cullen who just glared pitifully back at him.

Solas found himself pushed further into the cabin as a servant opened the door a steaming pot of broth in hand covered with several bowls, large hunks of bread balanced precariously on top, a chunk of butter nestled between them, it smelt meaty and his stomach gurgled in synchronism with the Commander’s. He was to be fed after all it would seem, the servant left as quickly as they had arrived, the pot placed on a slab in the centre of the table.

There was a surprisingly anxious glance back into the room behind from the Commander, “I’ll bring you a bowl through, I’m sure we can avoid spilling onto the child if we are careful.” 

A searching look before a small nod as he disappeared back into the room, the sound of furniture scraping as Solas found himself playing mother. He’d had little amuse him since he had awoken, but the situation he had found himself in led much to absurdity that he couldn’t help the small snorts of amusement that escaped him in increasing frequency as the afternoon had stretched into evening. All the previous lack of emotion making way for the swell he now found.

A bowl in each hand as he entered the other half of the cabin to find three cots, one occupied by the child who looked as if no one had yet touched her, and the other two were on opposite sides of the walls. Several sets of drawers were acting as a semi barrier between the cots to offer a modicum of privacy, if only while the person was lying down, and at the foot of each cot a chest with a key placed ready to be locked and removed by the owner.

Cullen eagerly snatched a bowl from his hands, before handing it back, disappearing and returning with two of the chairs. They settled down to eat, the sounds of the village muted, a comfortable silence as they managed to consume the whole pot, mopping up the remnants with the only slightly stale bread and butter.

He’d shrugged off his pack by the door, his staff propped up against the chimney breast, he was warm, well-fed and sheltered. 

“She’s asleep I can tell that much from here, let me go find a cot to sleep in tonight and I’ll be back first light to see what can be done, but the energy she would have used today will need to be regained. Sleeping will help, and in the morning we will see about waking her.” His neck cracked as he stretched it, back arching before standing up, holding his hand out for the bowl to return it to the table.

“They sent you to help, you were to stay here, I can’t sleep with the child alone, what if she wakes up and I’m alone, what if she falls ill in the middle of the night, what it someone attacks and I have to leave her, I need you to stay, you need to stay, please don’t leave-” the unspoken “me” hanging between them and the wild-eyed terror was back, not completely unpredicted.

“Then by all means, I shall play nursemaid to the Commander and his child,” a groan in response to his slightly sarcastic bow of acquiescence, “I have no preference to side, do you wish to take watch or do you trust that for tonight, here we will be safe to sleep without fear of attack?” He couldn’t help mocking the bare-faced fear of the younger male being left with the small child.

He was greeted with a slightly sheepish grin, “She might wake up in the night, I stand by that, but I trust that between us even asleep we should be fine to rest until morning.” 

They were both standing, Cullen opening a drawer to find it empty, then changing sides and checking another to find it rammed with clothing items and other belongings. “I believe the ladies have chosen for us. It’s my duty to be in line of sight to the door when we are attacked,” a smirk this time, the Commander starting to peel off his armour, propping it up on top of the chest.

“Do you mind if I ward?” always better to ask, especially of a Templar, or former, he wasn’t quite sure of the politics, the shaking of the head giving permission. A companionable silence settling as they settled down to the depths of a peaceful dreamless sleep. It had been a long…. difficult day, but perhaps his plans weren’t quite as ruined as he had originally feared.


	4. Varric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of two in a row for our dwarf

Varric woke them the following day. He had dreamed again, for most of the night, not that he had quite understood what the problem was or how to fix it, but eventually he’d managed to see the dream through to wakefulness. 

As he opened the door into the cabin, he was accompanied by a female servant, and more following with buckets of hot water, and a half-barrel, the closest they could find to a small tub. First order of business would be to get the girl clean, after that, he would worry about well, the more… difficult aspects of his task.

The child was still asleep, and the unlikely duo were still sleep-addled as the front room became alive with activity. Varric hadn’t quite understood why this was falling to him to do, he had some camaraderie with both of them, he hadn’t thought it was avoiding the worlds end level, but apparently so. 

The child was whipped out of the bed and brought through to the front whilst he stopped the two from leaving while she was cleaned. He stood steadfast, Bianca in hand whilst the sound of frightened squeals came from the front. He knew that whatever it was, the men were not to leave until the child was dressed and handed back to him, they were not to see the child, they were not to speak to the servants until it was done.

Food was brought through, Cullen’s sword removed, then water. Two hot buckets with rags and soap, fresh clothing for Solas, and Cullen harassed into clean clothes. He didn’t turn around once, his hand wandering not an inch further than it needed to whilst he ate, shifting every time the men moved.

“I don’t know, I just know that it goes wrong if you don’t stay here for now.” It was all he could offer them, it was part of the problem deciphering the dream, he couldn’t see what they had seen, he couldn’t hear what was being said, just the triggers that made it fade to black. He wasn’t meant to dream, he’d be happy to never dream again.

Cassandra had taken over Cullen’s usual morning preparations. He’d bumped into her as he made his way to the cabin, and hadn’t _that_ been a joy and a delight. She had informed him quite bluntly that she was already planning too, thank him very much, she didn’t need a storyteller to point out problems of an organisational nature. It wasn’t that he deliberately set out to annoy her, but ever since the book incident, he did find himself unintentionally goading her. However, she had come to the conclusion that Cullen’s new charge would affect his previous schedule, at least for the time being that was.

More movement as someone else entered behind, things being placed and water being removed, more water being brought in and sound of hair being combed. There was a light floral scent, at odds with the male musk from the bedroom, then more movement before he was tapped on the back, forcing him to turn.

_She wasn’t a child._

He could see from the moment he looked at her, someone had dressed her in a white woollen shift, a circlet of meadow flowers adorning her long almost golden hair, she had hips and a chest that looked in proportion to her size, betraying her age. How they had missed it, or perchance they were not allowed to notice it the day before, but this was no child.

Her eyes in the light looked amber and then as the fire caught them a flame red. Something was peeking out of the back of the shift, and the tips of her ears were pointed. Then she smiled at him, and it touched his very soul, still not a child.

She span and bobbed a curtsey to the servants, the smile still on her face, the same beatific smile from the day before, and he could see them melt into worshipping puddles. Not a child, not a person, but not a threat, something special, something pretty and fragile. He doubted they would forget the smile, he doubted he would.

The voice would match the exterior now, a little smaller than the timbre, but no longer a young child matched with a woman’s tone. He was also fairly certain the outline of the back of her dress meant that what was sticking out the top of the shift, the glistening rounded tips were, well, no point wandering around the problem, they were wings.

He took a moment, this next part would be crucial. Cullen had been better at this part, the earlier parts he had always gone for the sword, but this part was the Solas part. She read his intention though and had stepped forward to him, her small hand reaching out to grasp his.

“Now Chuckles, I need you to sit down, and I need Curly to hit you with a drain.” she squeezed his hand, as if it wasn’t her that would die if it went wrong. He risked a glance behind to check that the instructions had been followed.

“Curly, you better sit next to him, maybe restrain him, he moves quite quickly when startled.” They were both staring at him, but better to over-prepare than risk the little - the little woman.

He stepped back into the room and stood to the side to let her in, where she swayed sleepily, framed by the crackling fire and the early morning rays. From this angle, he hoped the red didn’t show, but her skin was pale as snow throwing off an almost blue tinge, not quite throwing off its own light source, though the promise was there.

The circlet had fallen slightly off-balance, and her none green hand had mussed her hair as she sleepily smiled at them. She looked as non-threatening as anyone could have hoped, Cullen was convinced, he could tell, Solas was processing. Cullen could see a child still, a sleepy, pretty child, but Solas saw a creature, a small, dangerous unknown creature.

Her eyes slowly blinked, and then again, her grip on his hand lessened and then she started to stumble, her eyelids barely opening. She was denser than expected, not heavy, just more there than he assumed she would be. She had done better than in the dream for remaining awake, dream her hadn’t been awake whilst she was bathed, dressed or standing at all.

“You can’t kill her, you know that right?” He had to ask, he didn’t think Solas would, but he couldn’t move her and keep him from hurting her at the same time. A small nod was his only response, it let Cullen collect her though and place her gently back in the cot she had come from. Curling her on her side, facing away from them protecting the delicate-looking protrusions on her back and the mess on her left arm. The circlet was gently removed and placed on the chest, and a blanket wrapped around, tucking her bare feet in securely.

They all moved back to the front room, with Cullen moving a chair to the entrance so he could keep half an eye on her whilst they talked. Varric was half tempted to leave at this point, it was where the dream had ended, the immediate threat over with, but the storyteller in him demanded he stayed.

“She’s not - “ and then a pause as the sentence lay unsaid.

“What is she?” silence.

“Spirit? Demon? Denizen of the wilds?” silence again.

“She’s different, I’ve never come across one such as she, not in all of my time here or in the fade, and I have roamed from the mountains to the seas. Too real to be spirit, perhaps a demon, feasibly one of the wildkin but even in the fade one such as she would have been spotted. She said there were many once, even if there aren’t now there would be some sign of her ken, some memory. I will have to seek out knowledge to see.” He wouldn’t swear to it, but he could almost hear a faint growl behind the words.

“Or we could just ask her?” He was throwing it out there, she had answered questions willingly the day before, when questioned.

“Or we could just ask her, might be faster. Although you could still investigate separately as a fail-safe, no harm in checking the facts.” Solas had perked up slightly, moving past danger to puzzle. Good old Curly, picking up on the subtle verbal prompt like the oh so subtle Templar he was.

A break for thoughts, honeyed tea and sweetened breads, chewing of words left on lips but unspoken, rejected and then rethought.

“We live in dangerous times...” And a bear shits in the forest. “They won’t approve, of her, she’s not like them, she’s not like us. She’ll be needed to fix it, how it’s fixed that remains to be seen, but we haven’t been led a merry dance to get to this point for her to not be needed.” He wasn’t sure Solas was exactly like them, perhaps more so than her, but still, no one fought for that long without breaking a sweat who was normal.

“Well I wasn’t planning on spending the next year in a tavern next to the sea, surrounded by grateful fans, and eager patrons.” No, he’d been planning on escaping Cassandra’s clutches and high tailing it to wherever the gang was currently holed up, safety in numbers.

“Every time I’ve considered leaving it has been put to me that it would be a mistake,” so he wasn’t the only selfless bastard among them then, thanks for that Solas.

“Curly, any words of self-sacrifice from you, to round it out?” Not necessary, it was clear that Cullen felt it his duty, the slight stiffening of his spine at the idea of abandoning his charge a tell if ever there was one. He’d have to get a few rounds in, just in case he needed extra coin to escape.


	5. Varric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last to be posted today, and the last for a short while for our noble historian

She slept the rest of the day, not stirring until the evening meal was brought to them, a scan from Solas had confirmed there was nothing wrong barring exhaustion. Midday had caused concern, her skin had dulled considerably, but then as the afternoon had passed the glimmer had crept back. The wariness had positioned itself in the room, another mark to the unknown nature of the small being in the bed.

They’d each worked in their own way, he had his correspondence and the beginnings of the tale to note down, while it was fresh. Cullen had a mountain of paper brought to him with a terse instruction from Cassandra muttered directly into his ear. Solas had read, pulling out books from the pack, occasionally muttering out loud before flicking back and forth between pages.

One of the servants from the morning returned with more hot buckets of water, rags left for the three men to wash up, as she disappeared to the sleeping being behind them. Her hands and face washed, and her body helped back to its feet, the flowers put back in place and the dress straightened. She was led back to them while freshly grilled fish was brought and placed onto the table, more bread and root vegetables surrounding the delicate flesh.

She was placed in the chair looking ridiculous as her legs swung freely, before being picked up and several pillows being situated beneath her so she could reach the table comfortably. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes, and he wasn’t sure how well it would go when she did, she was sat in direct contact with the flickering of the flames which already turned her hair to a rich gold.

Her fingers reached up and tugged a few strands out and plaited it into a small ring, Solas watching carefully whilst Cullen served the meal, when she was finished she placed it carefully as close to his place as she could reach, there was a definite metal clang as it hit the table.

“It’ll turn back in the morning, perhaps it will change again in the evening.” She wriggled on the pillow before opening her eyes wide, big wet amber pools of gratitude to Cullen as he placed food in front of her. “Thank you, Sir Galahad, I can offer no boon for it would kill you in three days or seven years, you may ask of me what you will and I will truth say what I may!” She reached for his hand, placing a kiss upon his palm. “The truest of knights, please sit and eat, as I do thee bid.”

There was no stuttering as she spoke, and the ring felt real, real to touch and to his tongue when he lightly bit at it. He handed it over to Solas who had reached over, only Cullen following her instruction to begin eating, and as he did so did she, the food disappearing at a rapid rate from her plate.

“You tell the tale far and wide Snurri, Nain of this world, but you must eat, else you will not have the strength to undertake what you are destined to do.” Well now, words to weigh a soul down with, a destiny foretold, but the fish melted in his mouth, it truly was fresh, and the bread couldn’t be used as a tool when he went to tear into it.

She wouldn’t look at Solas, and he had stopped looking at her inspecting the ring, flickering magic across its form, a piece of bread thrust into his hand from Cullen, forcing him to start eating. Whilst Varric watched with the same interest as he had back at the Hanged Man, watching the interplay between Fenris and Anders, or Fenris and anyone come to think about it.

“I am Korrigan, once The Korrigan, then a korrigan, and now Korrigan. A little nain! It should be a time for sleeping, no time for sleeping, need to leave the frozen water, makes sleeping needful, to see a bad woman to change the minds of bad people, protect the wilds, survive, the King to be told, poor Arthur, noble Arthur missing his Merlin, no grail yet, no grail until Pelias is devoured. Arthur to return home, needs to ask the right questions, need to see Arthur.” She had reached for Cullen’s hand again, grasping it tight enough that Varric could see white marks on the mans hand. Korrigan staring deep into Cullen’s eyes, as if willing him to understand.

“You want to see the King?” A happy smile, “We’ll invite him here,” this time a vehement shake of her head, “We’ll go to see him?” A brief wobble of confusion “We’ll meet him Redcliffe?” The room lit up as she glowed with happiness, as she had managed to lead the Templar by the nose through to what she wanted.

“My clever Galahad, when we see the bad woman we go to see Arthur, then we go to see the Bergrisar and bring back your clan.” Well that was as clear as mud, but there was a plan, and the fates led for a while yet. He did make a note of the terms given, with spaces left for terms he couldn’t associate yet. The next epic would need a glossary it would seem, perhaps instead of worrying about the title of it, he should be more concerned about running. Or he could carry on writing and enjoy the ride and hope he made it out alive at the other end.

“Do you know when you leave for your adventure little Korrigan?” Cullen was stroking her hand gently, paternally, would be how Varric would describe it, as she stared up at him with confusion.

“No I, only we, when shall we three meet again, that is what you are, three, and then I, my true and noble Galahad, my Snurri nain of this world, and my poor Tam Lin, my poor Puck,” the pools rippled with unshed tears as she looked finally to Solas, the tragic character, every good tale needed one.

“Little Korrigan, I have to remain here, I have duties, and Cassandra will take my place, she will do as I would, better even, she is a bastion of truth and goodness.” Varric could have guessed what the response would be without seeing it play out, he wasn’t wrong. It was met with a trembling shaking of the head, unseating the tears so that they dripped down onto the floor. “Little one, it’s not possible, Cassandra is to be the ambassador in the world,” the tears were falling thick and fast now, even as she was scooped up and cradled against Cullens chest, his fingers valiantly wiping them away.

“If it was to be we, and by that all of us, and not leave the Commander behind, when would it be?” Solas had pushed the ring back, relinquishing it to Varric’s care, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was to do with it, but it could be kept n his coin purse for now.

“When we are told to, the book needs to be slammed, words to be spoken, words to be written and etched. The Friar to shout and threaten and then to send word to hurt. Many days, another would have slept for three nights before damming the flow. Three more before they woke, Herald where once prisoner. No herald, Auger, Harbinger, no Herald. Korrigan not nain, seelie, human or minotaur,” she offered them a trembling smile, before ducking her head into Cullens chest, nestling like the child they had believed her once to be.

“Korrigan is little nain?” she nodded, “There were many?” another nod, “but now there is just you”

“Korrigan, then The Korrigan, then a Korrigan, and now just Korrigan, full circle.”

“So eldest and youngest?”

“Elder,” pointed at Cullen, “younger” she pointed at Solas. “My noble knight, and my poor Puck,” She settled her hand into Cullen's collar, “Home, here, safety, family, a future where only death came before. The circle begins.” She yawned, “Too cold, need to sleep, better away from snow, snow means sleep,” complete with childlike long blinks, not a threat radiating from her image.

“To bed then little Korrigan,” Cullen stood easily, before settling her into the cot, letting her curl around the pillow before closing the room off.

“You know that you will have to come with us right?” Varric couldn’t help but ask, and the neck rub answered that.

“And you Snurri, you realise that you need to be taking notes of what she’s saying, whether you or she nominated you, you are to be the historian of this piece, a role you know well from your mutual history.” Solas indicated between them, he wouldn’t quite of described it like that but sure why not, Cullen had been part of the mess after all.

“And you poor Puck, when shall we three meet again?” He snorted at the affronted look to usage of the poor Puck, “Tomorrow morning sound good? Are you going to brave taking her out into the open if she can remain awake long enough?”

“I’ll need to see Cassandra at the very least, and I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“You know she isn’t actually a child, that she isn’t actually your child, noble Galahad?”

“Thank you, poor Puck, it doesn’t stop me from desiring to keep her safe from harm.” The snark was real as Varric parted ways with them, notes in hand, and ideas already buzzing in his head.


	6. Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas fights off the urge to submit to domesticity, Inquisition time and so long Haven.

Another day was spent, with Korrigan waking only to be cleaned and fed in the morning before returning to her slumber throughout the day. Waking again for a few short hours in the evening, curling around Cullen but not doing more than murmuring yes or no to simple questions. She’d hesitated hovering between the two men, before lifting her arms up in Cullen’s direction.

Solas had remained in the cabin, whilst Cullen had been in communication with the three women who had left him to his new role. It had been agreed that Cassandra would take over as Commander, as a Commander should be there to lead, not out in the field not always contactable. Cullen had agreed to keep some of the administrative aspects, and in return, Cassandra had promised to help as he withdrew from the lyrium he no longer wanted. That had come as a surprise to Solas, when Cullen had shared that snippet, something of note that could easily be exploitable if needs be.

The three women had stayed away from the cabin, and the servants had kept their silence in regards to Korrigan’s being, other than she was alive and well if still tired. Cullen would have been concerned by the lack of questioning were it not for the bewilderment of finding himself in a different role that had been set out for him in Kirkwall he later confided in Solas. Solas on the other hand, had found the entire thing to be highly suspicious, though he wasn’t in a position just yet to do anything about it.

The following day had been spent similarly, Solas leaving for the majority of it and Varric taking up residence, quill barely stopping from the moment Cullen had left to the evening meals preparations arriving.

There had been a flurry of outfits arrive, robes for Solas, and small white woollen shifts for the sleeping beauty. The constant supply of hot water and floral soaps morning and night had cut through the musk, and the servants had kept the bedding fresh and aired. Varric had joked about moving his bed space to the cabin, before quickly taking it back as the servants had rushed to carry out his desire.

Cullen hadn’t returned by the time Korrigan was upright again, a message arriving that he was stuck in another meeting debating the structure of the troops he was handing over. Varric had disappeared out the door with a cheery, “Won’t be too long,” leaving Solas alone with her as she blearily blinked at him.

A flash of confusion replaced with slight sorrow as she tottered forward, clambering up onto the chair that had the pillows from two days earlier. She kept her head ducked, before resting it on the table, letting her breath even out, ready to fall back asleep until one of the other two men returned.

Fish again, someone had started ice fishing, the fish designated to the cabin, there was a benefit to being here, the food was filling and tasty. Solas placed a full plate in front of her slumbering form before touching her gently, flinching as she let out a sleepy kitten purr.

He returned to his own seat, and ate quietly, resolutely keeping his eyes firmly on his own plate, looking up only when it was empty, hers had been too. A shake of her head as he went to offer her more, she was eating the same amount as he was, this creature who was not even half of him. She settled her head back down again before he stood, he would carry her back, he would do that, no more than that.

Her arms had lifted up as he bent to collect her, her body more tense than one had assumed considering her fatigue, she hadn’t curled into him as she had once before or as she did every time Cullen had held her, she was keeping as little of herself from touching him as she could.

Not willing to soften, not while so much was unknown he placed her in the bed, merely pulling the blanket back into place, before returning to the table.

Later on, after Varric had eaten and left again, and Cullen had been released from “the harridan’s grasp” he watched as Korrigan coiled into his touch, and Solas wondered.

On the third day she had changed, the wings that none of the three men had actually seen in their entirety had disappeared, it had raised questions, unspoken questions before she had wriggled in front of them and they reappeared. Then a wriggle again and they were gone.

“It makes me sleepy, and you were worried about them noble Galahad. I will ease your burdens as I can, if I can I will, it will be easier when we are out of the snow, less sleepy.” She had settled onto Cullen’s lap to eat breakfast, swarming the fruit leaving only a few stones in her wake. Her eyes were brighter and she had stolen sips of Cullen’s tea, adding more and more honey with each slurp.

“Noble Galahad, we will find you a sword in a lake of your very own, the storyteller would share the story, near to the man who wished he was a knight of the round table, but when we see Arthur, we can make his wish come true and then he won’t have to die.” She was all but bouncing on his lap as he tried to eat his own breakfast, Solas taking pity on him and handing him a fresh mug that wasn’t purely honey and fruit juices.

“A message was sent, he knows that there may be a slight delay in our arrival due to not knowing when we are safe to leave, but it takes a King time to arrange a visit, even one such as Alistair.” Cullen moved his hand out of the way as she got more animated, at the risk of spilling hot liquid on her skin, glancing at Solas with puppy dog eyes.

“Korrigan, you will injure yourself if you don’t calm down.” Now Solas found himself mimicking Cullen’s attitude towards the being, she stilled herself for a few moments before squirming again.

“I haven’t forgotten your needs, my poor Puck, ancient artifacts hide like gold in a river, waiting for us to step in and catch thine eyes. Snurri will woo would-be lovers and grow our power again and again. We will heal the wounds of the sky, end conflicts between the chaos and order, and snap the necks of vultures picking over the bones.” She beamed at Solas which left him feeling a little concerned especially as she then launched herself across the table into his lap, her nose pressed against his. “The dragon will tremble, the skies will clear, the water will flow, flowers bountiful, we will dance beneath the full moons and the world will remember what it was and will be.” Korrigan slithered to the floor before leaping up onto spare chair, spinning madly, her hair flying out like a mad thing, perhaps this was the real Korrigan.

“We need to go see the Friar, eat we three, eat so we can begin. Begone foul winter, spring is coming, the water flowing, the flowers offering to the sun. Shall dance from sunset to sunrise, to dance again, to bathe in the waters. Faster we three, times they are a-changing, a rolling stone gathers no moss, time is fleeting!” She span around and around, Cullen throwing the last bit of food down his throat before sweeping her up as a father would his treasured child.

“Not ready to sleep I see,” she kissed at his chin, wriggling until he placed her back on the floor.

“To where the bad things go, to see the Friar, to see the book slam, for the words to be shouted and written and sent.” Solas had his hand tugged until he also stood, Varric already stationed by the door, unwilling to be subjected to more excited Korrigan than he needed to be. It had been the most animated she had been, that they had seen so far.

What happened was an interpretation of what had been described. It took far longer than described, there had been no mention of the village bowing and scraping in the face of the small Korrigan as she had pulled Cullen out through the door, the whispered worship, Harbinger, my lady Korrigan, the flowers and circlets thrust at her and them for her, the pile of offerings propped up against the cabin wall.

How she led them with beaming smiles through the villagers as if she had walked this through a hundred times before, weaving their way up to the Chantry, her skin dulling as they entered, stepping back into the safety of Cullen, her noble Knight, towards the angry shouting, as they interrupted the Chancellor demanding imprisonment of the Maker sent child to the Chantry where they would be able to control her.

There was an impressive slamming of a book, with Varric offering the Seeker his knife in case she wanted to stab it for good measure, safely out of her outraged reach behind the two taller men.

Threats made, accusations of guilt, the Seeker shying away from politics showing their cards from the outset. Solas had particularly enjoyed watching the Nightingale’s face at this, how it had become as blank as Korrigan’s had been before she’d closed the breach as much as she could. The Inquisition born against the wishes of the traditionalism Chantry, which he was sure wouldn’t bite them later.

Korrigan agreeing to stay and help as Leliana gambled on outright lies, they were following a set script, that much was clear, there was no doubt that if Korrigan chose to go it alone that they wouldn’t follow her regardless. In turn Korrigan playing her part, promising to do all she could to heal the sky.

Then formal introductions, another arriving, a dusky-skinned ambassadress who had bobbed down to Korrigan’s level barely catching her squeal of excitement as Korrigan kissed the proffered cheek. Cullen had been introduced as former Commander to be corrected with “Knight-Errant” and forced to kneel whilst with a sharp dagger that Korrigan had retrieved from parts unknown as she knighted him as such. Solas was curious as to why they were letting her do this as she wasn’t a child to be indulged, even if Cullen believed her to be.

Cassandra now Seeker and Commander, and Leliana the Spy Master. All roles present and correct, the new world order a matriarchy with the potential to outlast the current crisis.

They were summarily dismissed, being directed to see the herbalist, a simple request that led them to the Quartermaster where Cullen looked most put out at the attitude that had spilt out unchecked when she had seen the dwarf and his own ears. They were pulled away with requisition requests before she could be lambasted by the irate Knight-Errant. Dragged down and out through the gates to the blacksmith, another small task and then out through the trees to a cabin.

Korrigan had stopped them several times for iron deposits that she kept well away from, snipping at the elfroot instead, braiding it into crowns as often as stuffing it into Cullen’s hands who would in turn hand it over to the elf, though he couldn’t complain, Cullen had left the iron to the dwarf much to Varric’s distaste.

She had slipped through a window, clambering up a wood pile whilst Varric had struggled to find his picks, and was found rifling through papers on a desk. More interesting books were discovered along with the notes needed, more coin clinking in Varric’s pouch, before being tugged through the gate hidden behind the cabin.

More weaving through trees to find an old logging stand, an elfroot crown created and placed on a druffalo’s bemused head, and then as if everything that had to be done had been, she fell asleep, slumping against Cullen’s legs. She only stirred again when she was brought to the table, barely opening her eyes as she ate, curled up and held upright on Cullen’s lap.

The same again for breakfast, pliant to being moved but not reacting to anything but to chew and swallow. The evening had her eyes propped up, though the suspicion was done more to reassure.

Another day passed with Korrigan truly awake for less than a full meal, Solas being pestered to constantly check it was just exhaustion than anything worse.

She was awake before being bathed on the third morning, ever pliant under the roving cleansing hands of the girl who had become the official ladies maid. A dwarf who had admitted outright to being former Carta under Varric’s keen questioning, or so Varric told the tale. Cullen had arranged to pay off the debt in exchange for a ladies maid who could handle herself in a fight. She’d then admitted to a dream warning her away from the temple the night before the chaos, and in return had sought out to help to pay her debt.

Once clean, Korrigan had settled down in Cullen’s chair, making Cadash sit in hers, waiting for the men to ready themselves whilst breakfast was brought in. Korrigan had claimed another for their table, he wondered if there would be more or if the occupants would change, there was room for more chairs, but as the winged creature preferred perching on her favourite Knight to eat, hers had remained empty and out of place.

She was scooped up and deposited back down, a finger swatting at her nose gently, while she batted long lashes at the noble Galahad. He wasn’t quite sure if Cullen was aware of what she might be, or if he had accepted his role given to him and was now merely acting his part to perfection.

She was stealing red berries from the platter, stuffing them in her cheeks and hands while the conversation ambled around her, Varric made his appearance sparing only a passing glance at the fellow dwarf who had joined them.

“We head out today, they’ve found us a Sister who will talk to us in the Hinterlands, and a crow came in with a royal seal, it looks like someone has already opened it but I brought it along for you to see.” Varric tossed it across the table at Cullen who used it to swat at Korrigan’s hands as she went back for more of the red fruits, Solas switching out some of the berries for a green apple instead, ignoring the pout, he unlike Cullen was not fooled by the act.

“A week and a half and King Alistair will be at the castle,” Cullen swatted at her hands again as Korrigan went to switch the apple for the berries Solas had placed at the far side of the platter from her. “You’ll turn into a berry if you eat them all,” Cullen also managed to ignore the pout, taking a bite from his own plate of meats and bread. The missive in the meantime was passed over to the others to read.

“I have packed for us, I am leaving you gentlemen to your own devices however. I agreed to ladies maid, not general dogsbody.” Cadash indicated to the two packs propped up against the wall. Interestingly the comment had been aimed purely at Varric, who had held his hands up in mock surrender.

It didn’t take too much time before they were cleaned up and ready to go, Korrigan dancing between the four of them as they loaded up the small cart, whilst the sturdy nag had ended up with a crown of flowers it was unable to eat after it had stolen the one on Korrigan’s head as a morning snack. Solas had been curious to see if the missing crown would elicit tears as it might an actual child, but instead she produced another in short order. Perhaps he should mention to the new Knight Errant that mayhaps she shouldn’t be using healing herbs for such childish decorations, in a war torn country.

They were waved off by Cassandra, lists and maps received with disgruntled huffs from the noble Galahad who reminded her that he did actually know the area, which she very well knew thank her very much.

As soon as they were out of sight of the parish of Haven, Korrigan tugged Cadash off behind some trees, the sound of snickt of a blade against fabric before they returned, Cadash’s eyes flashing not so subtle threats at the men as Korrigan appeared, translucent insect wings fluttering freely behind her.

Cullen opted to carry on as if nothing had changed, Varric opened his mouth, closed it and then hopped onto the cart parchment and quill in hand, Solas could see him sketching the shape next to the fresh notes. She darted up to Varric and spread them out, so that he could see them in their glory. They looked as if stain glass segmented with almost black thick structure, long and thin on top and then branching out into a wider fuller body below, folding up neatly, no longer flat against her back but like a fin, barely moving with the wind until spread again.

When Varric went to touch Korrigan darted away again, “Soon, when I can use them properly.” A cheeky wink at the dwarf before catching back up to Cullen, clasping his hand in hers, looking much like a toddler with their father, with him helping her over larger ruts in the well travelled road.

The closer to mid day the more she dimmed, until as the sun hit its highest position she was placed into the cart, Varric having being hoisted out as soon as he’d finished scribbling for more than a moment. Cadash had been particularly keen on that fact, softly muttering to Solas about how the rumours were true after all about the dwarf, that he really was as bone idle as they said he was.

They broke for long enough to eat a light meal, before continuing on, Korrigan stirring from her slumber as the sun dipped beneath the tree line, alert once more. They’d made reasonable progress, and it didn’t take long to set up camp alongside a small brook. Varric had been opted to hunt by the non archers in the group, to which his response had been to opt Solas into foraging. The warriors set up camp whilst Korrigan had settled down on a stone, lying with her toes dangling in the water whilst her hand played with it.

By the time Varric had returned with several nugs, there were four large fish that had appeared on the stone next to her. There was no comment to the fact that fish that size didn’t live in brooks like this, nor did they just let themselves be caught.

With watches organised and a small quarrel regarding gender, size and numerical number of the group, Korrigan had taken her blanket and curled up on the stone, her hand in the water, her wings spread, and refused to leave even as Cullen tried to take her back to the warmth of the tents.

Cadash had spent her watch combing the mass of golden locks, while she had listened to tales of dwarves she’d never heard of, whose tales had spanned millennia to the creation of time. Cullen had spent his watching her hovering, fingers trailing in the water as she no longer touched the stone. 

Solas had been allowed to touch, his long fingers tracing the fragile delicate structures before being handed her dagger. When he’d refused to use it she jerked back into it, forcing the blade to bounce harmlessly off the gossamer. She’d then winked at him, “Magic!” her fingers twinkling before retrieving the blade and secreting it back amongst her personage again. 

He couldn’t help himself but snort in amusement, before launching into a lecture about trying to endanger herself just to prove a point, and she’d mimicked stabbing herself in the stomach, complete with dying swan act, until he’d calmed down. It had been very useful though, underneath the sinking feeling in his stomach at having to attempt to explain why she was injured on his watch.

Varric was tasked with breakfast, whilst the others took down the camp ready for another day of travel. Korrigan’s stone had her name carved into it, with a pile of offerings of fish bones, a ring made from her hair, and a circlet of flowers, it smacked of something else, the same sense of other that clung to her form.

The rest of the journey was spent with Korrigan becoming more aware during the daylight hours as they reached the greener pastures of the Hinterlands, with each night spent by pools and streams. Each left with a small shrine and her name carved deep within rock. Cadash had quietly asked why, and then refused to share the whispered answer. They could ask if they wanted to know, she admitted to wishing she hadn’t asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there are another 10+ chapters already to go with Korrigan, just needing to be read through before I post. But I got distracted by well, at first darker Korrigan, and then sadder Vicky, and then I had to go fluff cracktastic with Vicky n Lu to get me in the right headspace to tackle the mythological nightmare of Korrigan (who I love like I would my own small demented child).
> 
> This is for Rin, because Rin made me admit how much I loved the littlest fae.


	7. Hinterlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blackwall is introduced, and a Varric derails questioning to chat about stars.

They’d met up before schedule with the scouts, Varric impressing no one with his attempt at wit with Harding, met more with a low growl from Cullen, who then proceeded to lecture the dwarf on correct etiquette in regards to the female gender, and was forced to apologise sheepishly.

The forward camp had been preparing to head down into the valley to help prepare for their arrival, and it was decided that there was no reason to delay meeting up with the Mother purely because they were early.

As such the rogue Templar band that appeared to harass the refugees were met by a livid former Knight - Captain, and quickly laid down arms and surrendered to the mercy of the infant Inquisition, handing over locations of other errant Templar forces that had scattered amongst the hills. They were shipped up to the base camp under the stern eye of a Corporal until they could be escorted back to Haven.

A group of apostates made themselves known shortly after, Solas taking over abrading this time, shaming them into similar action. They didn’t surrender, they signed up, or that was how they had later informed the opposing faction when they all eventually met back up in Haven weeks later.

The Mother was spoken with, Korrigan mumbling and avoiding eye contact, leaving Cullen to do the talking, the other three investigating the rest of the hamlet, taking note of any requests, matching them up to the troops where possible. The Mages being used to hunt the large rams that roamed the fields behind base, the Templar’s being put to logging duty, supplying wood for repairs, new structures and firewood.

A potion to help a woman breath had Solas brewing for the afternoon, with them promising to drag the itinerant son back by his ear for abandoning them to join a cult of all things. Caches of clothing was marked down against the information gained from the new Inquisition Mages. The request for a healer was easily filled, there were two in the small group, and they had promised many more if they didn’t kill the camped out rebels.

A new shrine was set up around the small waterfall that Korrigan had taken to haunting at the Crossroads. Small offerings of flowers, and pretty pebbles that glistened as if gold that moulded themselves into the stone work where she had rested, where even the strongest had been unable to pry them away from the surroundings, even with the amount of desire for untapped wealth offered.

It didn’t take long however for things to start to happen that went unexplained. Wounds healed easier than thought necessary, food became more plentiful, fish swam in the small brook where nothing should support them beyond tiny minnows. At the same time the small Korrigan merely flitted about, attached to one of the four at all times, shying away from the menfolk if they became too interested with quiet words.

Each place they stopped and rested another small shrine would appear, flowers that remained in full blossom, fish that would dance out of the water into the hands of the hungry, pretty stones that would gleam gold only to return to a stone like appearance the further away from the small shrines they were taken from.

It hadn’t taken long for them to reach the place where the Warden had been spotted, aided by the help of the locals, and Cullen had made swift work of the bandit troop that were stalking the small cabin, after a warning from his small charge who had gone stiff before the sound of an arrow being knocked flitted across the quiet clearing.

“Warden?”

“Noble Galahad, he needs to go see Arthur” she tugged on his sword arm, her wings vibrating with eagerness, before running over to the tall bearded figure.

It had done little to dispel tension in the air, especially as the man began to speak only to find his lips silenced by her small hand.

“No my poor dear, we go to see Arthur and then it all is well.” Solas had barriered her as the Warden had unsheathed his sword at the small creatures touch, the otherness clearly not helping with the bizarreness of the day.

“Korrigan, you need to step away from the man.” Varric spoke quietly and clearly, as she bobbed up and down, her face creeping closer to the unsettled mans with a wide smile.

“Korrigan, love, you need to go back to Cullen.” Cadash was louder, breaking through to her charge who had gotten close enough that her long lashes were brushing the mans face, her nose almost pressing against his.

“Korrigan, Galahad needs you.” At this she span, her wings smacking into the large male, forcing him to step back at the sturdiness of what had appeared to be so very fragile.

“Noble Galahad?” her face tilted up towards Cullen, as she dipped back down to the floor, looking up at him as a child once more.

“Korrigan, please,” he managed to stutter out, summoning her over like an eager puppy, her wings vibrating so that her feet didn’t quite touch the ground as she hurried over, squirming happily as he swept her up into his arms, holding her tightly and away from the perceived threat. “Don’t do that again, little one. Please.” She nuzzled at his neck, nodding.

“As you wish my noble Galahad.”

“Who are you people?” the threat spoke up, resulting in a glare from Cullen, and a bolt being knocked from Varric.

“We are the Inquisition, we have come to recruit you.” Cadash spoke up for them, after the silence between the three men began to linger, Solas choosing to ignore the whole situation to bring Korrigan a flower she was reaching for behind Cullen’s back.

“Recruit me? For what, and what is the Inquisition?”

“To save the world, what better reason to have to recruit you.”

“You don’t know me from Harry.”

“Korrigan has vouched for you, it is enough for us. You are necessary.” She stepped closer, unsheathing a great sword at the last part.

“And if I decline the offer?”

“Caradoc, please come with us to see Arthur, and then we can continue on our mission to defeat the Usurper.” She wriggled around in her Galahad’s arms, a blossom from Solas in one hand and a smile on her face.

“You heard the lady, if you haven’t received a vision it isn’t necessary for you to come, but it would be better for all involved if you did.”

“Wait a vision?” the man now named Caradoc span to face Varric.

“You had a vision?” Cullen addressed him with a stern tone.

“Strange dreams, of red and grey, nothing I could hold onto past waking other than colours.”

“Then you must come with us, Caradoc.” There was a steady surety from the elf, that made the mans shoulders droop.

“Who am I to decline fate, it seems it has caught up to me.” at this Korrigan whispered something into Cullen’s ear that had him reluctantly place her on the ground so that she could dart back over to the former threat.

“Caradoc, please do not worry, Arthur will help to heal the hurts, and you will be redeemed once more. You may never be as Galahad, but there is no shame in being Caradoc, it is a noble calling indeed, no reason to fear your fate. Trust in Arthur, in Galahad and they will steer you straight.” she tucked the blossom behind his ear before flitting off across the water to where an Avvar shrine was held, much to the disgruntlement of her guardians who had to run around the outskirts to catch up with her.

“Galahad, I can’t take this place,” she gazed up at him mournfully, her fingers trailing through the water as she circled the shrine.

“You prefer waterfalls however?” Solas offered up reluctantly at her hurt puppy dog eyes.

“How about a waterfall with a secret place behind it?” Varric was slightly cheerier as he turned her round and pointed up at the waterfall behind the Avvar monument.

“A place for Korrigan?” this she directed to Solas who merely sighed.

“As many other places have become places for Korrigan, but yes, a better place than the still water that is here.”

“Poor Puck, you fear what is happening but can’t stop it.” Her voice dropped to an almost silent whisper, pitched so that only he could hear it.

“Korrigan, do you understand what is happening?” He spoke loud enough for others to hear, and she blinked slowly at him.

“Korrigan, once was one, then was many then was one,” She pressed a soft kiss upon his hand before pulling him up the path to where the rock had formed to create a natural plateau behind the water, only to be greeted by a large group of dwarves who looked as shocked as Solas was to see others there.

She was pressed behind him, shielded by his body as Cullen and Caradoc both rushed up to protect and defend. The dwarves fell quickly, but the door that they had revealed wouldn’t open even after both Varric and Cadash had tried to unpick it with their tools, Cadash opting for the more brute force than Varric’s dexterous picking. Cullen spent the time explaining to his charge the dangers of running off alone without them, and she had bore the dressing down with enough of a subdued manner that he forgave her before he had finished his first breath.

He had allowed her to set up a shrine, as she had requested quietly, aware of his concern for her, and had even helped to arrange the flowers in a pleasing position, or at least until she had beamed at him, all sins forgiven even as Cadash removed the corpses from the area to be burnt at the Avvar monument.

This small act had brought a sly smirk that lasted little more than a heartbeat, hidden from all but the elf, before Korrigan’s countenance returned to that of innocence. He had approached her whilst Cullen had been busy organising with the scouts as to where they would venture off to next, but Cadash had stepped in to take the little one off to be scrubbed clean in the waters, having managed to coat herself in the ashes of the fallen.

In the end it had been agreed that the horsemaster Dennet was to be the next port of call, after Korrigan had started to babble at Cullen about glowing white steeds after he had asked her what she saw in his future. The teasing from Varric had sent his colour to that reflecting the berries she adored, with the Korrigan giddy at the sight.

“Korrigan, we need to talk about how far you can see,” Solas had broached it as they had bedded down for the night, readying themselves for the trek across the bear infested forest in the morrow.

“The stars,” yet again Solas caught a faint coyness to her lilting tone, which seemed to pass the others by, with Cullen ruffling her hair at her response.

“We can all see the stars, Korrigan” Varric derailed the line of questioning, starting to point out constellations, before rolling into the tales attached to them, the scouts listening as keenly as Korrigan who stared at him and the skies with wide eyes.

“Galahad, do you think the stars mind being used?” There was a brief moment of confusion as he exchanged glances with the other adults.

“Used how, little one?”

“To hide away treasures,” her fingers were tracing over Judex, Cadash holding onto her legs after she had started to flutter skywards as if to try and touch them.

“The stars are used to hide away treasures?” he asked again softly.

“By the mages from old, they hid things away like dragons, secret things,” he moved over to take over the Korrigan wrangling duty, settling her down onto his lap, with Cadash sighing in soft relief.

“Do you know where they are?” 

“You saw one already, but you didn’t touch it, two more lie in front of us, Draconis and Peraquialus, the dragon that was Jormungandr, and Naglfar, behind us Judex, Damoceles” 

“Should we go back for it before heading forward?” he stroked her hair as she continued her eager tracing.

“Forward or back, it matters not Galahad, the stars endure beyond the time of man,” there was a soft snicker from Varric.

“She has you there, Curly,”

“Perhaps we should get some rest, we will no doubt find ourselves back from whence we came soon enough, but tomorrow's journey will be full of rabid animals, countless bandits and no doubt more streams and pools that we must stop at.” the latter causing Korrigan to pause her tracing for a moment to gaze with moonpooled eyes at the elf.

“The further it goes the less it is clear,”


	8. Cadash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scouts play havoc, so many bears, clearing out a villa and a chastising that causes a falling out between the tallest and the smallest.

The scouts who took over the night watch reported back to Cullen that she had spent the night on the small dock, staring into the water, tracing patterns and singing softly to herself songs that they couldn’t comprehend, that left them with feelings of hope, fears, wants and desires. The Avvar shrine had aged overnight, looking far shabbier than it had on their arrival on Solas’s quick silent inspection. He had spared her a glance, as she gazed back at him with that slight smug smirk she only seemed to show to him.

“So Curly, we seem to have missed something,” Varric called out as they began to pack up, readying themselves to leave on their quest to kill as many bears as possible, or so one of the scouts had muttered as Cullen had plotted out their route. 

“And this is why we bring you, the perfect secretary,” Cadash mocked gently as she was trying to wrangle Korrigan’s hair into braids, having despaired over the amount of debris from the previous day. Korrigan on the other hand was busy fluttering her lashes at the scouts who were eating, behind Cullen’s back. “You’ll make them think we never feed you, Korrigan you need to sit still for this,”

“And what do you believe we have missed, Master Tethras?” Cullen had started to scowl at one of the more adventurous scouts who had casually passed by the grooming women, accidentally dropping soft fruit into his charges hands.

“A sword in the lake?” that had made Korrigan squirm round, the fruit already half eaten and dripping down her chin as Cadash growled, at Varric or Korrigan it wasn’t quite clear.

“Don’t we need to see the storyteller for the sword?” Cullen was sporting a lovely frown, making his way over with a small rag to wipe away the drips as she stuffed the rest of the fruit into her mouth before he could take it away from her. 

“I am a storyteller, and I did tell you about it, I’m sure that counts?” Varric offered with a blase wave.

“It’s not, not true,” Solas returned to them, keeping one eye on Avvar shrine, offering up a semi support for Varrics suggestion.

“They say a spirit dwells in a small lake, south of the highway. The girls of the village bring it daisies and ask for love but rarely does it listen, for it is a spirit of Valour not love and it favours blood lotus flowers,” the normal lilting timbre took on a distinctly ferelden tone as she offered up the words.

“If you like Curly I could repeat that for you,” he did well to avoid the fruit stone, the Knight had removed from Korrigans tight grip, not trusting her to not plant it as she had started to do, or eat it. Solas had spent several attempts at reassuring him that she was unlikely to grow a tree in her stomach from all of the stones and seeds she liked to consume. Cadash hadn’t helped matters, pointing out time and again the lack of waste she seemed to acquire.

“A sword fit for the noble Galahad, to offer a flower as trade for Valours purpose.” The Knight in question bowing before his charge at her direction. The storyteller ducked off to hide behind their latest recruit, after he had been unable to restrain his laughter at the human picking and rejecting blooms under the small creatures behest.

The scouts had all found things to do that involved being lake side, the braver offering up new locations for more perfect looking flowers, before being instructed by a semi irate Cullen, to gather the rest of the herb in his wake as they had nothing more productive to do. However at the look of pleasure on the small females face when he found a perfect specimen, had him forgetting the light mocking. The sword had been an added bonus, better than the Inquisition equipment, and wrapped around it’s hilt a belt that he had tossed to Cadash after taking one look at it’s length. 

Korrigan had gone to whisper into the water after the sword appeared, with their elf looking as unsettled as he had often been since they had become aware of her not child status, but there wasn’t time to dwell as Cullen once again took charge and led them off into a pile of bears, with the bravest of the scouts catcalling after them “we told you so” .

The account in the report that was sent back to Haven had been that every bear in the greater Hinterland area had been slaughtered. It wasn’t far wrong, as soon as they took breath and a step forward they were immediately beset by more, and rogues, and templars, and even some mages. They’d even stumbled across what had been turned into a scratching post by the bears, a logging stand. Cullen had sent Varric had doubling back to get a message back through the scouts to the Crossroads to collect the meat, if there had been a smile on his face when Varric had groaned the dwarf didn’t comment. The scouts tasked with skinning the beasts and sorting through the piles of kit that the small group were unwilling to take with them, and Cullen’s mood had continued to improve.

The amount of bears had gotten the group to the point where when they stumbled across cubs by themselves, there had been no hesitation to killing them, the only one not affected being Korrigan who was busy trying to steal honey from a hive much to her Knight’s disapproval. They had long since decided that the best course of action was to limit her access to sweet foods as she would become almost manic for a while before crashing completely. Just because they had decided, it didn’t make it any easier to stop it from happening, and Cadash was of the opinion the watch was more to keep an eye on her than to check for dangers at this point.

Blackwall, Caradoc as Korrigan would call him was a reluctant joinee, he threw himself into each encounter without hesitation, but shied away from being too close to the winged Korrigan, even as she sought him out when conversations would drift to his background. It made for an uncomfortable time as he would be forced into moving as she approached. Almost amusing to watch the older, much taller male back away from the childlike innocence that she exuded.

Cadash was fast beginning to join Solas in his belief that where Cullen saw a benign being, there was something more. Just hints, but enough to make the part of her being that had kept her alive so far spark, Solas did the same thing, when he would stare at the wings, or the shrines, or when Cullen would bow. Little things, tiny things, the droplet of rain on a still lake. And then she would find herself on the receiving end of a smile, or a touch, and she would forget again.

The rift closed easily, Korrigan perking up as she had begun to do as they disappeared, and there was that look again from Solas. A map discovered, treasure to be found, as they stared up at a large villa overlooking the area. It only took a small look to Korrigan who was busy playing with healing herbs again for Cullen to delay their trip to the Horsemaster.

There was an uneasy silence as they breached the walls, the bandits were equipped better than almost all of them, and it was well defended. If not for Korrigan’s speed, Cadash would have found herself on the receiving end of more than one great sword. But Korrigan was like death herself, nimble and deadly scrambling up ledges to appear above unseen enemies, archers dropping from the tops of the large towers with thin stab wounds across necks and through chests. 

It had been the first Blac-Caradoc had witnessed of the small ones prowess, as she had been distracted with the bears, choosing to follow bees as the others had scrambled to keep up with the onslaught of feral creatures. She had been sure that the amount of corpses for the humans out weighed the amount that they had killed. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to consider the reasoning behind it. He however looked horrified as his name was called out, forcing him to side step as another archer dropped from the skies with a cheery little wave.

“Cat toying with mice,” or that was what she thought she heard the bearded wonder mutter, with Solas nodding from behind him. It was all forgotten when they managed to fight their way through to where the leader of the bandits was holed up surrounded by more well armed followers. Korrigan had appeared behind them, and Cullen had exploded into a death machine, whirling his new great sword, cutting through plate as if paper as the danger stepped towards his small one. 

Solas was doing his best to barrier him up, whilst Varric cursed as he interrupted shots that would aid, Cadash and Caradoc were doing their best to stay out of range of the fury, the effect managing to ball the remaining bandits up into a death ball, a high sweep of the blade decapitating two, another falling to a well timed shot that brushed past Cullen’s ear, and the leader himself falling down dead with a dagger punched through his neck by a smiling Korrigan. A smiling Korrigan who soon became a sulking one as Cullen ignored the others for another lecture whilst the others began to explore, leaving the shouting parent to chastise his child in peace.

“You promised me Korrigan, we just had this conversation yesterday, you promised you wouldn’t go off on your own, and what did you do, you did it again. What if I hadn’t been close enough to save you?” He was kneeling in front of her, forcing her to meet his eyes as she stared at the cooling corpses around them, blood starting to pool around her feet.

“A promise means something Korrigan, vow to me, vow that you won’t put yourself in danger like that again. Promise me.” the mulish expression helping her to look more like a child than before. “Korrigan, please, how I can be your noble Galahad if you don’t let me protect you?” 

She kicked her foot against the former leaders head before meeting his gaze properly, “I Korrigan, once the Korrigan, once of many korrigans, and now just one, I vow to keep myself safe from danger,” there was the world settling moment as the words were dragged from her lips, and her expression was one of betrayal. 

How it had gone wrong was something only Korrigan could truly answer, and after her vow, she had taken to Caradoc’s reactions from there on. Shying away from her Galahad to cling to Cadash instead, leaving their leader confused and hurt at his charges actions.

They were able to use most of the gear, with everyone finding at least some article other than Solas that was superior to their own, a key and note found directing them back to Korrigan’s latest shrine with a silent question being asked between the adults as to backtrack or not. She had refused to be drawn into the decision making, going blank when they had outright asked her, with Cullen raising his hands in defeat. 

“There is something here still, or close by we should look at, a disturbance of some sort,” the elf took the hit, delaying the inevitable as he led them towards the mountainous range behind the villa, Korrigan clutching onto Cadash like a limpet. The disturbance had turned out to be a small pedestal that was benign enough as they approached.

“Perhaps it requires an offering?” Cadash was beginning to admire his dogged determination to engage with Korrigan, who looked mulish as she was pulled closer to it.

“There is something here, perhaps Korrigan could help us with it.” Korrigan however had turned her back on it and them, her wings still and stiff, Cadash almost believed she could hear soft orlesian muttering, almost.

“Perhaps it will come to us later,” This drew a reaction from their sulking charge who shifted, starting to pull her guardian back the way they had come, with Cullen asking the other men what exactly he’d done behind them.

“Perhaps Korrigan is merely expressing signs of being a child. Haven’t we all as children rebelled against our elders?” soft mocking from the elf, he was a much of a wind up merchant as that storytelling dwarf. No wonder she’d been approached to look after the girl, if this was the support the Knight was given.

“Are we bedding down for the day in the villa, or carrying on to the Horsemaster?” Caradoc intervened as Varric’s dulcet tones started to chime in, no doubt to upset the shiny warrior more.

“We have a few hours of daylight left, we can easily make it to Dennet’s” famous last words. They instead stumbled into a large rift, more bears and more rogues, before finding a safe place to rest with a small group of scouts who had been sent out to investigate when word had reached from the Horsemasters camp they hadn’t arrived by the afternoon. 

She swore that the first thing she would have custom made would be full set of bearskin furnishings, the amount of them that had attacked in waves, Korrigan yet again choosing to ignore them, though she did take out the rogues that had tried to take advantage when they were distracted by the bears. But then she had also gone out of her way to attack the rogues that were engaged with bears already, which then made the bears attack the rest of them as soon as their initial target was dead. If it hadn’t been for her actions from much earlier that day, she would have assumed the girl was doing it to teach Cullen a lesson.

It was also the first night they slept somewhere with no water, Cullen for once had stood firm in the face of Korrigan’s not so subtle leading back to the villa where she without a doubt had been planning another one of her shrines. Instead she had been made to stay in the middle of the camp, surrounded on all sides by Cadash and the four men, after a scout had alerted to them that she had tried to creep away as they slept.

The lack of her favourite soft fruits hadn’t inspired a pleasant breakfast either, and she had turned away from the bear meat offerings, squirming like a naughty toddler whilst her hair was brushed out and rebraided. Cadash had been ready to throttle her, when she had yet again turned her back on their leader, still she had started to speak to them which had been an improvement on the previous night.

“Perhaps we could talk about the stars now Korrigan?” The elf had taken over the braiding as the girl had pulled away yet again, Cadash’s temper starting to boil over. He was more patient as he spoke, his fingers teasing through until she had calmed down.

“Draconis, Jormungandr lies ahead before the Magister Equitum,” her fingers started to trace out a pattern, as she spoke, her mulish expression falling away as Varric picked up the reins and started to talk about the stars again with her. She could have kissed him, as he found himself with her latched onto him, giving Cadash a well deserved break from her recalcitrant charge.

“You know, the Dragons were considered to be gods,” that drawl of his, she wasn’t sure if it was a deliberate how he used it to draw others in.

“They were gods, Snurri, even a nain such as you knows this,” and just like that, all of her goodwill to the elf was gone, supercilious bastard. 

“Ah, but the Dragons that roam the countryside now aren’t gods are they Puck?” that teasing drawl back again.

“Snurri has a story about the dragons, his quest with Arthur to find Uther,” Korrigan had allowed her Puck to finish binding off the intricate braid, before wriggling out of his grasp properly.

“Ah, perhaps you should hear that tale from Arthur himself, he knows more than I as to what happened at the Grove,” she stilled, the others drawing breath in case this would send her back off into a sulk yet again, though the storyteller was relaxed, drawing on a pipe a scout had been passing around.

“Will you share another tale about the winged ones?” the exhale as their own winged one bartered with him.

“When we rest for the day Korrigan, then you can hear about Hawke and Flemeth,” a sour expression passed over her face, and he backtracked, “Hawke and the The Bone Pit?” she beamed at him, and like that they set off, with her fluttering again, babbling at her Snurri’s arm every time he tried to fall to the back of the group.


	9. Horse Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sulking continues, and we get a story from Varric from his days with Hawke, before they are turned away from Redcliffe.

He wasn’t above lying to himself when it came to the small female, he knew that she wasn’t a child as much she appeared to be. He knew she was dangerous, that she wasn’t the same as them, but between that sliver of knowledge, was a large buffer of did it matter and he didn’t care. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, and it worried him that he relied on whatever had been affecting them before to assume that whatever it was wasn’t going to be life threatening.

When he’d brought it up with the others, he had been hoping for a discussion, a proper one, where they could examine, not teasing about their charge being a child. Because her reaction hadn’t been one of childishness, he knew that of old from his own siblings, from the young charges back in the Circles, and from the raw recruits that seemed to prefer dying to old age.

No, she had been hurt by him, hurt enough that she was now avoiding his touch. That in itself was strange, since she was first handed over to him, she had spent most of her time by his side, clambering on him to eat, pulling on him as they walked, nestling in his arms whilst she slept. Even with the gentle scolding he had given her, she still accepted his touch, and yet with the space of a few words she had turned her back on him as if he was no longer there.

In the end it had been Cadash who he had managed to draw into an actual conversation with, the warrior joining him at the back, as far as way from Varric and Korrigan as she could get, with a worn expression on her face.

“Before you ask, I don’t know,” he winced at the brusque tone. 

“She seems in higher spirits,” he then winced at the hopeful tone in his own voice, and the pitying look she gave him.

“Varric will sometimes complain about how you choose to not take on any of the gathering, leaving it to the rest of us, do you know why I don’t complain?” he shook his head at the question, frowning at her words. Did he really do that, he was supposed to be a fair leader, not out shirking whilst the others did the work.

“Relax Cullen, Solas understands, Black - Caradoc I think does a little already and the dwarf will understand by the time we break for rest.” there was a slight vindictive lilt in her words as she pointed her finger at the man in question being dragged for the fourth time in the last quarter to another tuft of flowers. “I have had the pleasure of Cassandra’s company whilst she tested out my metal, I don’t believe she would have suffered this with any grace.”

“Cassandra is a woman of honour, she would have performed to the utmost standard,”

“Peace you oversized jackboot, she has the patience of a nug, Varric might believe he has patience and he has more than the Seeker, but can you see him already starting to twitch,” he followed her finger as Korrigan started to veer off again.

“There is a reason why you are here, she adores you, and you adore her, and what us lesser mortals find annoying as all balls, you seem to just accept with the patience of the Divine.” he could feel his skin prickling with heat at the sacrilege even as she snickered at him. “I will bet you Varric’s bedroll that she’ll be by your side again by the end of the day. If only because the dwarf has spun a tale to do so.” 

“I don’t accept that I am the only one who has patience with her,” he grinned slightly at the scorn in her gaze as she pointed at Korrigan and Varric yet again as she had started to flutter up into the air with the dwarf trying to keep a hand on her ankle, whilst not looking upward and trying to keep his hand on Bianca as she’d forced him into the front yet again. “Perhaps today she is just being a little more trying than usual.”

“Knight indeed, she is like this every time she is awake,” Solas had dropped back to avoid being drawn into Varric's attempts to harangue the charge into doing as he wanted, which in this case appeared to be not flying up into the trees, or off to ore, or herbs or bears as she had the day before.

“Like herding cats,” Caradoc had joined in as he followed the elfs example. He found himself grinning at them, before pushing forward to help out at the front, before they were set upon by what he had no doubt would be a combination of bear riding rogues, feeling much better about the situation after their chat than he had at the start of the day.

As it was, they managed to avoid anything that wanted their blood until after they made it to the Horse master. It had been quite the achievement, with the Astrarium being a particularly tense encounter as Solas had explained what they were, and the warriors on high alert at the lack of attack. Varric had opted to try and use it after he had interrupted Solas’s explanation of the constellation Draconis, somewhat short in his temper for once, before Korrigan had reluctantly taken her Knight by the hand and guided it with her own. 

Varric hadn’t even complained as Cadash handed over the bedroll without explanation, choosing instead to focus on the relieved sensation his expression belied when Korrigan didn’t return to Varric’s side, instead choosing to linger near to, but not touching her Knight.

The Horse master was in fine form, as ornery as he had been back last time their paths had crossed in his Kinloch hold days, when as a young Templar he had been sent out with a Senior to request horses for Circle business. It came as no surprise when his aid came at the cost of aid. He had however unbent when he’d spotted Korrigan, who had been sleepily leaning against Solas’s legs whilst they talked business. 

Varric had slid into the conversation at the parental concern in Dennets eyes, explaining how far they had walked, and with their warriors in plate, and the weakness of rogues and Mages in general, they had been unable to carry her for as long as she needed to be. She had done the same thing she had back in the cabin, when they had first seen her clean, the sleepy smile, her green hand shoved into her hair pulling the braid loose, the flowers lopsided. He could feel Dennet melting, and a small part of him wondered pushing it and requesting the aid again, but Dennet offered them mounts instead, and he felt guilty for the exploitative thought.

His wife bustled Cadash and Korrigan off to get clean, whilst Dennet took the menfolk off to pick out mounts, his daughter aiding them as they found themselves with five mounts suitable for their continuing journey. He had offered a small pony for Korrigan’s use, before discarding that when it occurred to Varric that she would just disappear if left unattended. Far better for her to ride with her Knight, and it felt right, he would be able to protect her from harm. 

Cadash had mocked him when she saw what Dennet had picked out for him, an Imperial Warmblood, that almost glowed with how crisply white it was. Informing him that he would need to get on with buffing his armour if he didn’t want to reflect badly upon his steed. It was worth it when Korrigan had smothered the beast in soft kisses and touches, weaving hair and flowers together to produce a crown, which it bore with noble grace. It didn’t help with the mocking comments.

Still it was a much happier, cleaner Korrigan who appeared at evening meal, Dennet’s wife had taken over hair brushing duty as soon as she had started to squirm, and Seanna had plaited it with braids and flowers, whilst sharing stories about her favorite mounts. They had compromised as to where they were camping, they had been offered refuge in an abandoned farmhouse, but after the previous night without water, the boggy ground was chosen as a better prospect than the large malevolent looking rift at the rivers edge. It had been a suitable enough compromise, as they were able to eat fresh fish once more.

It was if the previous days bad will had vanished, his charge hanging onto stories with fluttering wings, and a rapt expression. 

“Hawke and The Bone Pit, that’s what we agreed upon?” she had crept onto his lap, for a better view of her favorite storyteller who had been fed ale and passed pipes to calm him down from his trauma as Cadash had mocked.

“Once upon a time, a man named Hawke decided to go into business with an Orlesian merchant named Hubert, against the advice of his best friend and financial advisor I might add. For the advice he would have been given was to ask why an Orlesian merchant was so desperate that he would work with a Ferelden so easily. Now Curly, don’t pull that face, you have to remember this was Kirkwall after all, and we had just been flooded with Fereldan cast offs running from the Blight. But no Hawke as ever knew best, and even after hearing that no workers had reported in, and no one else had deigned to help Hubert, he still set off to The Bone Pit to investigate” 

“Galahad, weren’t you in Kirkwall at this point?” the look Cadash got from Varric, as the former Knight Captain nodded, was one of exasperation, as he raised a two finger salute.

“Now, a word of advice, when someone you are working for can’t give you details of a job, and won’t discuss payment beyond how much it’s costing them, won’t even provide you with a map to show you where it is, that’s when you go and look for other work. But oh no, Hawke saw an opportunity. A bad one.

“And so off we trot, following Hawke like a mother duck, off out of the city into the wilds on a mad idea that had resulted from a letter from a merc. So here we are in the countryside, and not even the scenic part, a mine, gloomy, dank and oh so atmospheric, and the first thing we come across other than a shaft that had its entrance collapsed? The corpse of a former dock worker. Of which of course Hawke goes rummaging through to find a name so that we can much later on inform the lesser of the greaters demise.” He took a long draw on his pipe, whilst his audience was seated back down.

“So after Hawke has finished desecrating corpses as he was want to do, we made our way further round only to be set upon by a large group of looters, or at least that was what Hubert claimed when we eventually returned. If Hawke had asked me, I would have suggested that perhaps they were some of the ones Hubert had sent before and were responding to an unknown threat. Hawke however did not, and we lived to fight another day.” 

“Varric, you sound almost bitter, your epic saga made it sound like Hawke and you were all but married,” Caradoc started at Solas’s comment.

“You wrote that?” Varric looked almost insulted.

“Varric, he hadn’t realised he was in the presence of such greatness, how does it feel?” there was a soft whine from Korrigan as the story started to disappear as Cadash continued to wind up her favorite target.

“Moving on, you can worship me after we get through this. So Hawke loots the looters, as he would often do before any of us tried to take the prize pickings, but as he was the one paying for the healing potions, and he needed the money to pay for his part of the expedition we couldn’t argue too much. However, and we are getting to the part that Korrigan will enjoy, we stumble across a passage dating back to the Ancient age, talking about the very mine itself.

“Now the contents were enough to send a chill up the spine, and any sensible forward thinking individual back to the confines of the city. It was a letter, discussing the events that had occurred before, how the The Bone Pit got its name. How its name came from a Tevinter practice of forcing slaves to push each other off the edge to their deaths to feed dragonlings below. How the veil, and you’ll like this Puck, how the veil was at risk of fracturing even back then. And the response to the request to stop the practice, well you guessed it, no.” the mood shifted from it’s relatively jovial one to a darker, heavier affair.

“And even then, with the knowledge that this was a place built on the bones of slaves sacrificed to the dragons, Hawke pressed on. Even as we got to the entrance to the mine proper and Fenris warned him of the stench of death, as if we couldn’t taste it in the air ourselves. And what happens, a clutch of dragonlings attack as soon as the gate slams behind us. A clutch of very hungry, very angry dragonlings who immediately swarm around a bigger dragon. That was the norm for the next few hours, much like the bears of the Hinterlands, you took a step, killed some dragons, took another step killed some more. 

“So we continued on, getting our faces chewed on by dragons and dragonlings, looting merrily as we went. We even managed to find the most unique of treasures, a pommel from a city guard, which Hawke knew for sure we would have to return. And on we went, fighting our way through a circles worth of scaled beasts for no other reason than Hawke wanted to see how many we could kill before we ran out of healing. A noble cause we can all agree.

“But then, finally our murderous rampage which would have upset Daisy no end if she had been dragged along, we found a survivor. One of the miners had managed to hide away, how we had no idea, the blasted things had been everywhere. Under careful questioning, Hawke managed to discover a shocking truth.” whilst Korrigan was enthralled, the others merely looked at him with restrained amusement at his less than shocked tone.

“It became apparent that the miners had mined through somewhere they shouldn’t, and dragons had swarmed through and devoured them, all down to the last one. And had continue to devour the investigators that Hubert had sent afterwards. Well wasn’t that a huge surprise, well worth fighting our way down, ruining our armour, getting scratches on Bianca, Fenris being mauled like an oversized chew toy. But wait, the best was still to come.

“As our friend was leaving back the way we had generously cleared out for him, he informs us that if we were to continue onwards, we would come across a huge dragon. Of course, we offered to escort him back, or at least that would have been the sensible, well thought out plan, we could have returned fresh, well stocked and with more people. Hawke however chose the other option. 

“It was a huge dragon, not quite a High Dragon, no that comes many years later, but still it was a long drawn out fight, that almost killed us several times over. A well deserved clap on the back from Hawke and off we trotted without resting, back to Kirkwall to see our Orlesian friend. Our reward for killing as many dragonlings as there are grains of sand on a beach, a whole three gold, and Hawke got to own a share, a fifty percent share no less in what has to be the most cursed place in Kirkwall. And then he got tasked with stocking it back up with workers, because after all we just hadn’t done quite enough for our merchant friend.” 

There was an uncomfortable silence as they exchanged glances at the increasingly biting tone from the normally jovial dwarf. It came to something when Cadash refused to prod. Korrigan however looked placated, completely curled up in her Galahad’s arms, emitting huffing little puffs of contentment. 

“And on that note, I will be calling it a night. Don’t stay up too late Galahad, someone has to lead us in the morrow,” 

The following day found them in relative cheer, a solid nights uninterrupted sleep doing much to repair the dour, Korrigan had been entertained by Dennet’s daughter creating multitudes of flowery crowns for all of the mounts not only that they had been provided with, but in the stables. She’d even crafted a simple golden circlet for the girl, that they had to warn her not to sell in case of it turning. She had merely giggled, sharing a glance with the winged creature.

A hearty breakfast, followed by a warm up rift that had seemingly appeared overnight next to the farm buildings that was closed before it had chance to spit out more than a couple of demons. There had been a moment where the pursuits of the mage and the warriors differed as Solas had expressed interest in the remains, whilst the warriors who had been splattered by its demise did not. It was easily fixed when Varric whistled for a scout to collect the grimy rags to be sent back for study. The scout had looked as pleased as a wet cat.

The next rift however was more of an issue, with much cursing as to compositions of groups from the magic wielding elf, as the warriors spent most of the fight running backward and forward, exhausting themselves as much as the fighting did, with only Korrigan managing to keep pace with the transporting twisted spirits.

Brief respite as the scouts were called on again, with the unlucky one nominated by the others as experienced in picking through tainted blobs, and the warriors cleaning off in the shallow running river as Korrigan started to etch her mark into the stone beneath the small waterfall. 

The wolves that plagued the farmlands were dealt with swiftly, and after warnings from both Solas and Caradoc as to the unnaturalness of their behaviour, it came as no surprise when they dispatched a demon in the grotto. There was an unanswered idle question as to why Korrigan had joined in on killing the wolves when she had not bothered to with the bears. She did however guide her Snurri to hidden treasure, by clambering on it with a childlike guile until he went to bring her back down. She was rewarded with a promise of another story.

It came as no surprise when they stumbled across a tame druffalo, nor when Korrigan perched upon its back, transporting the beast of burden into a noble animal, almost prancing back to the field, adorned in the tinkling blooms of crystal grace, that she had managed to find somehow and somewhere that not even Galahad had noticed. They received words of thanks for their deeds, but the watch towers still remained a priority before Dennet would release more of his mounts to the cause.

More bear killing, and a few rams thrown in for good measure, and they stumbled across the other Astrarium that she had mentioned two nights previously. Periaquialis, that she traced out for them three times before guiding Cullen’s hands again, resulting in another strange clunking and a faint trail leading off back into the heartland of the conflict.

She had shown little interest when their elf had discovered an artifact that strengthened the veil, beyond that of touching it afterwards, her hand sparking for a moment before settling down. 

From there on out, they fought through to Redcliffe, closing more rifts, spiders as a welcome change from the bears, convincing apostates to change their wicked ways, berating templars and shaming the ones who were still reasonably sane from lyrium withdrawal to be honourable. They had cleared out rogue demons, cleaned up after warring families, and picked every herb in a three mile radius or so Varric had bemoaned as they veered off again as Korrigan had spotted another one.

Still eventually before nightfall they made it to the outer gates at Redcliffe, only to be turned away. This was met with no little concern from their Knight Errant who had received word that the King was due to arrive around the same time as they were give or take a day. No matter how they phrased the request for entry it was refused, they eventually headed back at top pace to the Crossroads to hand over the many resources gathered whilst messages were scoured for more news.


	10. Here Be Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Varric story, this time his first meeting with Hawke, tormenting scouts, and they return to Redcliffe.

The location for that nights tale took place at Korrigan’s shrine, which had amassed a few more objects in their absence, a half vial of healing potion, a small sack of grain, and a babies rattle. 

Varric settled down, with Korrigan perching this time on the edge of the hidden fall, her wings skimming the rushing water as she gazed at him in rapt wonder as she had the previous night.

“What would you like to hear tonight, little Korrigan?” He asked, whilst it was Cadash who spoke up first, having taken over Korrigan watch whilst their leader was working through the backlog of papers that had seemingly multiplied from leaving Dennet’s stables.

“Maybe something that doesn’t involve you whining for an hour,” there was some giggling from the younger members of the small crowd as he gave her a two fingered salute in response.

“You could continue on and share the rest of the tale about The Bone Pit,” Solas suggested blandly, Korrigan nodding eagerly as Cadash scowled at the elf.

“How about how a dashing rogue saved the once and future champion of Kirkwall instead, leave the dragon story for another day?” there was a mixture of groans and cheers as the conflicted crowd celebrated hearing about the Champion, but Dragons were always exciting too. 

“I wonder if the dashing rogue is charming, wonderful, practically perfect in every way too.” she groused as he leered at her.

“Cadash, I’m serious about Bianca, but if you want I can add you onto the list, the bottom of it.” She returned his earlier salute, before snagging Solas and handing over responsibility for Korrigan to him as he had been so keen on encouraging the dwarf.

“And now that the hopeful future Lady Tethras has left, let me share with you a tale of intrigue, adventure and gold.” he drew deeply on a pipe, billowing out clouds of smoke as he set the mood.

“Once upon a time, in a market place in the dirtiest city in the whole of Thedas, a dashing dwarven rogue was minding his own business, the business of one upping his much older, much duller in every way brother, when he spotted a young Ferelden man clad in dirty ragged clothing appear where he really shouldn’t have been.” there was a strange silence as he glanced across the Ferelden crowd that were still mostly clad in rags, there was a moment where the crowd could go either way, before it eased.

“He was chasing down a surly, plain looking dwarf, another taller, younger human almost begging the dwarf to let them sign on to a dangerous expedition that was to lead them down into the Deep Roads,” He had valiantly continued as there had been a snort from the back. “Now the dwarf who had a face a mother would be hard pressed to love, and a disposition to match, had sent them away with a flea in their ear. He couldn’t see what the dashing rogue could, he just saw the dirt and dismissed the pair without a thought.

“The dashing, clever and forward thinking rogue decided to follow them out of the square, an idea percolating in his brain as to how best to help these poor folks who just needed that chance to step forward and claim glory. When he spied a pickpocket bump into the man who would become known as Hawke, and lift his coin without stopping to take a breath, but with all the skill of a nug. 

“Now even so it took the man who became Hawke, a moment to realise that all the coin he owned in the world had been stolen, yelling after the thief as if that would stop him from running. Fortunately the true hero of the piece” he caught the bread roll that had been lobbed at him by his biggest critic, “had found the perfect way to aid, and had drawn his weapon, a finely crafted crossbow that was known across all of Thedas as Bianca, and shot the thief in the shoulder, pinning him to a wall.” There were some gasps amongst the younger children, and his prime target was being firmly anchored by their resident apostate as her wings had started to vibrate.

“He berated the young thief,” 

“And no doubt paid him off,” to which he ignored, continuing on.

“He berated the young thief, giving him worldly advice as to not practice his craft in Hightown. For as all the good pickpockets know, that whilst the coin can be bountiful, the risk was far greater. Every unsuspecting mark may be an undercover guard waiting to trick the unwary criminal into the cells, or worse yet, to be caught by a member of the Merchant’s Guild who had learnt a thing or two from Tevinter.” 

“The kindly mentor released the young thief, after relieving him of the Hawkes purse, making sure to retrieve his bolt, because bolts don’t grow on trees, before returning the coin back to the grateful human who had been watching with awe, at the rogues kind deeds.” there was the faint sound of muffled snickering as their newest human had been forced to place his hand over Cadash’s mouth when some of the audience had started to shoot them both dirty looks at her heckling.

“The rogue introduced himself with understated style and panache, “Varric Tethras, at your service” the Hawke and his brother, for that was who the younger was, a younger, better looking, as all younger siblings are, Hawke. “I apologise for Bartrand,” for that was who the ugly in face and deed dwarf had been, “He wouldn’t know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw,” Hawke the elder, and slightly dirtier, he had already started to go around with a red mark swiped across his nose as a way of standing out amongst the other humans, asked eagerly “But you would?” 

“The hero dwarf smiled benevolently at them, “I would! What my brother” for you see the villainous dwarf had been the heroes brother, “doesn’t realise is that we need someone like you. He would never admit it either - he’s too proud.” as older brothers are often want to be, “I, however, am quite practical” because one of us had to be for our mothers sake, stone rest her.” he took a swig from his canteen, looked up at the nights sky, sighed and then carried on.

“The younger Hawke, who was also more practical began to ask questions, asking if their hero was joining the expedition, which of course he was, Bartrand had the sense of a blind nug and would need the skill, wit and command of his younger brother to ensure success. Even though the Deep Roads was the last place Tethras the Younger ever wanted to be. It was the reason why he had been so keen to make sure it all went as smoothly as possible, for as he had told them, he was a very practical dwarf.

“The younger Hawke nodded seriously, having given him the look all despairing younger siblings give when they too know the pain of having a not so brilliant elder to keep under control. “What makes you so certain we can help? You know nothing about us” Hawke with the smudge asked, the two younger siblings exchanging a look, as the dashing dwarf explained, “On the contrary - you’ve made quite the name for yourselves over the last year. The name “Hawke” is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Fereldan fresh off the boat” 

“There was a moment whilst Hawke the elder preened at the compliment, “You must have heard of my brother as well then?” Now the hero of the piece hadn’t mentioned which Hawke had been on everyone's lips, and the younger of the two did well to restrain himself from slapping the top of his brothers head at the question. So the dashing rogue winked at him in solidarity, “Only a little. He’s certainly welcome to come along, preferable if you will,” 

“Carver, for the brothers name was and still is Carver, took over the questions, asking quite sensibly why the rogue was so interested in hiring them on. But he didn’t want to hire them on,” there was a gasp from the crowd as someone started to work themselves up into a state, “He wanted them as partners, for his brother hadn’t the business sense that the rogue had, and was unwilling to let his younger sibling have a controlling share, he was as I said before ugly in face and deed. “Invest in the expedition. Fifty sovereigns and he can’t refuse. Not with me there to vouch for you” now as we all know this is not a small amount of change, not even for a king, and even the younger Hawke looked disheartened at the figure. But there was little time to lose, the Deep Roads were the safest they would be until the next Blight.

“Still the dwarf was able to offer them more of his expert advice, and motivation, “The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life,” and the Hawke brothers certainly needed it. He offered to work with them, to help flush out juicy jobs that would pay big, as the risks would be too, for he knew everyone in the city that was worth knowing.

“Now there was another issue that made the venture more appetising for the brothers Hawke, they had earnt some heat from their year of working for a mercenary band called the Red Iron, and there was a specialised band of guards, that were very interested in seeing the elder Hawke clapped up and locked away for the rest of his natural life.” there was a choking cough muffled yet again by the bearded wonder. “ “You need the coin, and I need you help. We need each other. I can’t make it sound better than that.” and so they agreed, with the amount of work Kirkwall was crawling with, and one of the brothers work ethic they would have the coin in no time. They would even make some new friends, who would later go on to make waves of their own throughout the dirtiest city in Thedas, but that is a tale for another day.”

There was a round of applause that the storyteller took with expected grace, begging off from committing to when exactly he would be regaling them with more tales, until the crowd had finally dispersed. If the dispersal had more to do with their gallant leaders return, than with anything else, it was by the by.

“Varric, I have read your Tale of the Champion, and it read quite differently,”

“I’m sure there is a question in there somewhere, Chuckles,” 

“Indeed, it would appear from this recounting and the previous you honoured us with, that you had little respect for the Champion?” Varric glanced at his former Kirkwall compatriot, who looked suspiciously bland.

“Perhaps that is also a topic for another time,” the elf ducked his head in acknowledgement, “Maybe Curly can share his impressions of the champion while we are at it too, just so you get a well rounded viewpoint. My Tale though was edited to be much more palatable to the masses, and my editor is most definitely the eldest in their family,” the sly drawl was enough to raise a quirk of a lip.

“I shall look forward to hearing more, in perhaps a more relaxed environment.” 

“You got it Chuckles, and I think our ladies Knight has her,” he glanced at where she was now wrapped around Cullen’s neck like a scarf, tangling his unruly hair whilst he tried to carry out a conversation with the taller of their two ladies.

Another night passed by in relative comfort, with little consequence. The Mother, or the bad woman as Korrigan had been calling her, had taken note of their actions and had pledged to aid them get access to the hallowed halls in Orlais. Korrigan had a faint mulish expression as her champion had invited the woman back to Haven, before undertaking worship with her. 

Solas had been almost as impressed, pointing out when questioned that the Chantry were not known for their acceptance of elves or mages, and that he could see why a creature such as Korrigan would be less than content around such an institution. It was unusual to see a conversation between the two men where Korrigan sided more with the elf than her Knight, but this was definitely such an occurrence. Still he didn’t withdraw the offer, even if he did promise to protect her, and reiterated to Solas that Korrigan wasn’t a creature. 

A recruit Belette had requested aid in their absence to deal with a more dedicated group of bandits, and Korrigan had whispered in Solas’s ear something that made him perk his ears up.

“Cullen, I believe that if our young charge is correct, there is another artifact to help us strengthen the veil which would go a ways to helping us close the breach, or at the very least help stop more rifts from forming until we do. Perhaps it would be expedient to investigate as the young recruit requests?” 

“We can’t in all good knowledge abandon these people to be preyed upon by organised bandits, and if there is something that could help us stop the rifts before they open it would be dishonourable to leave before we do all we can.” Varric wasn’t quite sure, but he had definitely taken on more of a fairy tale Knight attitude in the more recent weeks, it wasn’t a bad look on him, but he doubted it would do much to get him laid. 

To be honest, they all needed a break, they had been on the go for weeks now, longer if you counted Haven and the mess that had been, which he did, because keeping grown men from having breakdowns and Seekers from stabbing more books than she should was hard work. Speaking of Haven, he wondered how much paperwork would be waiting for him when they arrived back. Perhaps they should delay their return a while longer.

They were greeted as soon as they stepped foot past the hamlets limits and safety of Inquisition support, by well armed bandits. Now on par with their own equipment which had been nice, granted only because they were still in bandit gear, but beggars can't be choosers and there was little separating them from beggars.

This time it was Caradoc who was sent back to snag the first group of scouts who looked like they were slacking off, to deal with all of the cast off items thoughtfully provided by the corpses of the dead. He had looked a sight when he’d caught up with them, a sweaty, slightly grimy, bearded mess. They had by this point managed to come almost to blows with a Dalish elf who had with one breath welcomed and then insulted them. Chuckles had been snide, overtly snide, which had then set off Cullen’s sense of manners, until the Dalish elf had passed comment on Korrigan’s form insinuating that she was a demon, which had their Knight bristling. 

It had fallen to Cadash of all people to guide them through the pitfalls of the encounter, with her usual bluntness as she took the Dalish in hand. The artifact was located, and the elf stopped from removing a magical item after Cadash had suggested perhaps as Solas had done all of the hard work, that he should get a say in it too. Solas had babbled something vicious sounding in Elven which had Korrigan giggling softly into Cullens shoulder from where he had her firmly clasped. The very definition of overprotective mother. 

The green fire had been interesting to see, even if Curly had kittens as his charge had run her fingers through it over and over again. It had been part of the reason that she had found herself in his arms, rather than left to move alone, even after their Dalish guest had scuttled off from wherever she had appeared from. The rune had been a turn up for the books, with Korrigan tracing it onto Curlys sword, etching it in with the strangeness that she had every time she etched her name in a rock. He had sworn he could feel something when the pattern had been finished.

Beardy, appeared as they had exited to the collapsed tomb, room? Just as the torch Solas was carrying with him sputtered out, the memory of the flame looking if it could, more otherworldly in the light of the day. It was only when the torch was out, was there little Korrigan allowed down from her Knights grasp, where she promptly led them through the meadow of flowers and ore straight into a much larger encampment of bandits, where for the next what felt like days, they fought through wave after wave of what felt like private army. Until there was nothing left to kill, nothing left to kill other than where Korrigan had started to lead them.

Cadash had been sent ahead as a sacrificial pawn, or so she groused, but as he had been sent to collect the scouts yet again after the bearded wonder had refused on grounds he was injured, and by that he meant he had been forced to earlier. Solas was tasked with healing the less than agile man, whilst Cullen worked on keeping Korrigan from disappearing down the hill side after herbs she was tempted by.

They had despaired when Cadash returned with reports of not only dragonlings, but also what appeared to be a Dragon as big as the very sky itself. The Dragon hadn’t come as much of a surprise however, as it’s screeching had echoed all the way back to the hamlets limits. Still the dragonlings were a pest that would need to be dealt with before they slept as Korrigan had gotten the same look on her face when Cadash had spoken about them, as she did when she spotted flowers to pick.

“We heal up completely, and we carefully take them out, one by one. We’ll come back for the big one when we have more support and much better armour.” there was murmurings of agreement from all but their smallest member at Curly’s words. There was little doubt she would already be down there if it hadn’t been for his grip on her hand.

Eager wasn’t the word he’d use when describing her demeanour, giddy perhaps, excited for definite, her eyes were a bright vibrant red, and she glowed with such brilliance that they had only really experienced at depths of the night when she was in her natural habitat of water. Even her strands of hair that shed onto Curly’s clothing made soft tinkling noises, tiny thin gold strands, even before she weaved them. He half expected her to start dancing round and round their fearless leader, instead she was as still as she could be, quietly vibrating with need.

“Stop teasing the girl, Curly, whats the worse that can happen? It’s only Dragonlings, unless Cadash can’t tell the difference between what a dragonling is and a nug.” He took the hit like a man, a man who had successfully wound up the worlds worst Varric hating dwarf. 

“If we don’t go soon we’ll lose any light we have, better to go now than to wait until later. From what I could see there is at least half a dozen of the blighters. And that was what I could see from the edge of the passage.” She retrieved her dagger, placing it back in her boot, even as she was flipping him off.

“Now, slow and steady, make as little noise as you can, and retreat if necessary. Whilst we are blessed to have such a talented healer as we do in Solas, he has his limits, and as our resident storyteller informed us not that long ago, they swarm given half a chance.” There was a weight behind his words, as if he had been subjected to the creatures before. A tale to pry out of him at a point where they weren’t racing against sunset.

She hadn’t been wrong, the place had been crawling with them, and they were dragonlings, he’d had to give her that. She hadn’t mentioned that the Dragon itself, which both he and Chuckles both identified as being a High Dragon, was still flying about the dragonlings and spat flaming fireballs at them. Solas had consulted their resident dragon lover, for a solution to the problem, which had them hightailing it across from the relative safety across past burned out carts and corpses, to an entrance to what could only be described as a High Dragon palace with large nest up on a small rise overlooking a wide expanse of open territory and small nests. 

She hadn’t led them wrong, it had retreated back to it’s high perch, and spat fireballs at them as they dithered at the entrance, with only Korrigan trying to enter it’s definite territory, whilst the rest of them fought off the dragonlings that had chased them as they ran. In fact, she hadn’t attacked a single one of them, much like the bears, she peeled off to pick herbs whilst everyone else tried to stop being used as dragon chew toys.

She hadn’t however seemed too upset as they died, nor as the scouts who had been anxiously waiting at the entrance were called in to deal with their remains. Though they also hadn’t seemed to pay her any mind either, a mutual ignoring perhaps of winged creatures. Curly had stopped her twice from disappearing off towards the clutch mother, he had mothering down to a fine art, and she had started to look mulish again when he refused to let her down after the second time. She’d babbled at him, but whatever she had said made no difference.

He’d made the decision to make a temporary camp where the bandit army had based theirs, explaining to them all his concern at leaving the scouts out unattended with a High Dragon that wasn’t to be trusted to stay on it’s perch now that its crop of youngsters had been slaughtered. The scouts hadn’t looked as reassured by this as perhaps Curly had meant them to be. He had felt slightly guilty about giving the man a hard time when he’d first announced it. Not enough to volunteer to stay with Korrigan who had managed to wrangle enough of a leash to set up another one of her shrines near to the base of the passageway.

Instead that had been handed over to the scouts tasked with keeping watch for the night. And what a mistake that had later proven to be, much later, a secret that they had managed to keep until after the breach was closed. It had almost been as if they had deliberately waited until he couldn’t possibly be mad before announcing it, almost like.

When Curly was sure that the scouts weren’t being left to become lunch for the hungry beast, they set off at a fair pelt across to their first camp, stopping briefly to yet more messages from Haven, with a request for their return, to which he promised Harding that this would be the last time he took us off into the wilds, and on our return we would definitely make our way back at full speed, not even sparing the horses. Perhaps he hadn’t completely turned into a white knight after all, if the sly smirk he’d shot her was any indication. And hadn’t that been an eye opener as she’d flushed, and she hadn’t even blinked when he’d used some of his best work on her.

He had forgotten the final star puzzle, but it was fairly obvious, once of course they had fought off more rogues that were lurking around it’s base as if waiting for stray idiots to come and investigate. Curly was even able to do this one unaided, if you count watching Korrigan trace it out again this time with elfroot on the ground. Still he looked as if he was pleased with the accomplishment, and she looked pleased that he looked pleased. She had been much calmer, and Solas had been almost as relaxed, fingers slightly smudged with ink.

They had smashed up more of the red lyrium, most of it had already been dealt with by the forces, but this had been at the back of a well hidden cave, next to a pile of buried treasure that Korrigan had happened to drop a dagger onto, the clinking drawing their attention. A noblewoman's corpse along with a missive from her lover telling the woman to attempt to cross the war torn country unaided. Even Curly had expressed sentiment of a negative nature to this advice.

A small group of Templars who refused to back down, even when surrounded and outnumbered, that had items of distinctly Elven heritage that had Solas scowling, before their little Korrigan slipped her hand in his and smiled. Another couple of rifts closed, another cave explored this time with crazy apostate and demons, no doubt driven to distraction by the large crop of the blighted lyrium that kept cropping up everywhere. 

Then the highlight of the day, a cult of rift worshippers, noble no less, for at the end of the world, what else does the Maker desire most, if not a group of nobles prancing about whilst ignoring the suffering outside their sturdy almost impenetrable walls? Curly had set them straight adeptly after the “Speaker” had bowed down to their greatness when Korrigan had closed their own baby rift, that they had been throwing tributes at. As soon as they pledged themselves to the Harbinger, Curly directed them to helping refugees, with a very loud unspoken “as you should already have been doing” echoing his words.

Lord Berand was most grateful when he was informed of his lady loves demise, a reaction that had Cadash pulling a face at him, but the Lord pledging his aid. Though there was a question raised as to whether or not he counted as being part of the cults aid or not, still he had a small army and Curly still had his Commander hat on. The young idiot was sent to report directly to the Seeker. He had no doubt that she would be informed as to the full reason why he had joined up.

Solas had an elven lad in tears, in floods of tears, making him promise to return to his family and to remain there instead of joining up with idiot humans whilst his mother suffered without his aid. It was a testament to how trying Curly was finding the whole ordeal when he merely ignored it. Too busy trying to keep track of his charge who was delighting in clambering up the many places to flutter back down on her impossible wings. It was he this time that stumbled on the artifact, almost tripping over it as he was peering out to check she hadn’t gone the wrong way and out into the wilds without telling him. Solas had been very pleased.

They had been about to head back to Harding when Korrigan had pulled on her Knights hand.

“Arthur has arrived and is awaiting his Galahad, it’s time to take Caradoc, to meet his destiny to become a true Knight, so he doesn’t have to die, to get Arthur to ask questions, the right questions, to save him,” there was an awkward silence as their Caradoc flushed, suddenly the centre of their attention.

“I mean, technically he never said he was,”

“By his own honesty, or because we were never given the opportunity to ask and hear it from his own words, Master Tethras,” Ah Chuckles, you had been in such a good mood this morning, and now we are back at the Master Tethras crap.

“Squire Caradoc, soon to be Knight Caradoc, vows of silence for honor to those who came before,” It wasn’t the most subtle she had ever been, as even Curly had grasped onto the machinations, giving her a stern look as the man in question held his tongue if not their eyes.

“Perhaps it's something best discussed with the King?” he stepped in before he started to mother, or leader or a strange combination of both, and she would either avoid or be forced into answering and risk it going the same way as when they had stopped talking and he had been forced to be responsible. No one wanted that. Least of all him.

It did work however, and for the journey back to Redcliffe, it was as if there was nothing wrong. They stopped as often as they ever had, the banter remained essentially as good natured as it ever was. And they were even greeted pleasantly as night fell by the Kings guard, instead of being turned away for a second time. Korrigan however had lost her wings, and that was the first warning that something wasn’t quite right. From the moment they had entered the Hinterlands, her wings had been on display, and so far had been well received. But here, they were gone.

She was also careful with her eyes, retreating back to the persona of sleepy, innocent child with frightening ease as they rode slowly down to the bridge over to the castle, her face buried into Curly’s chest, as he led the procession.

“Korrigan, is there something we need to be worried about?” Solas asked first, Cadash was too far back to spot a real difference in the girl, Caradoc was still resolutely not speaking, even if he had stiffened as the wings disappeared. He however was more interested in their fearless leaders face, and wasn’t that a picture of barely restrained power, just begging for someone to try him.

“Arthur has them well in hand, poor Puck.” she peered at him over Curly’s shoulder, offering a tiny smile before ducking back down to hide in the ridiculous cloak of his.

“And if that didn’t reassure you,” he muttered under his breath, Chuckles offering a slight quirk of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick cast list   
> Galahad - Cullen  
> Snurri - Varric  
> Puck - Solas  
> Caradoc - Blackwall  
> Arthur - Alistair


	11. Alistair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the King, meet Felix and Dorian, find out Korrigan isn't above a bit of manipulation (like it was ever in any doubt) clear out a Thaig and steal a crown.

They were escorted through to the keeps main hall by a worried high ranking looking servant, who hadn’t introduced himself when asked, merely waving at them to follow. The unease at the situation continued as their horses were not as such confiscated, but they weren’t given the opportunity to see where they were taken to. 

The hall was empty, which was odd considering the time of day, the smell of food, and the large tables lining the walls. And then the servant disappeared too. Korrigan had hidden herself in her Knight’s cloak so thoroughly it had sent alarm bells through them all, their stances battle ready, and the King had been lucky when on entering, he wasn’t immediately shot with a bolt of both metal and magic.

“I must apologise, I was informed of your previous arrival after you had left, however I was dealing with a shall we say diplomatic issue,” he winced at the word, staying still until the battle hardened group stood down, before perching himself on the edge of the nearest table, lines marking his face as much as the blackened circles that encompassed his eyes.

“My King,” He stepped forward, gently moving Korrigan to behind him, still disturbed by her appearance and attitude to not put himself between her and what he could only assume was a danger to her.

“Cullen, I think we have shared enough by now that you can call me by name, especially as you are the very reason I am here,” his tone was somewhat bleak, causing a visible wince on the Knight Errants face.

“Alistair, I must ask, what is happening here?” Korrigan peered around him, unseen by Cullen, but the King was able to see her face, offering him a smile that had him perking up like a flower in the sun.

“I am still not entirely sure, it’s all a bit of a mess, and one that I hate to think what would have happened had you not summoned me here.” he took a breath, before letting out a whistle, holding his hands out in peace as three servants swarmed the room laden down with ale and food, before departing again.

“The plan had been to bring some support for the region, Teagan has remained in Denerim to oversee matters whilst I travelled. Redcliffe is a safe haven for the Mages, after the terrible business with the Chantry. They were willing to lend aid to the outlying villages in the form of healing, but needed confirmation of support, well you’ve heard what’s happened with some of the circles yes?” he took a deep breath, rubbing a hand across his brow.

“Well, it was a reasonable request, and there is much work to be done to help rebuild the worst affected places. We arrived as expected, and were greeted gladly by the Grand Enchanter Fiona, they, as in the whole place, were very welcoming, and the villagers and Mages had connected well enough. If we had arrived a week later I fear it would have been a different story. 

“We were awoken on our third day by the arrival of a Tevinter group led by a Magister, every single one of them a mage. They seemed very surprised to see us here, it was almost as if they knew that Teagan had been absent and the village unprotected to any real extent.” he poured a mug of ale and toasted them, “However, thanks to your timely and odd summons, Redcliffe was well prepared to deal with a potential threat.”

“Now naturally, the leader claimed that he had purely arrived in a mission to talk to Grand Enchanter Fiona, and I fear I believe him in that, for whatever reason, his son is ill, and Fiona is a very talented healing mage. You can’t deny that he loves the boy,” 

“It certainly explains why we were turned away then,” Alistair shook his head at Cullen’s words.

“Sadly, it was more to do with what we discovered later on, the boy and his friend sought out a private meeting whilst Alexius had requested an audience with Fiona. We had given them relative access, although the large group of other mages he travelled with were asked to remain under guard until they left. It proved to be a wise request.” He cocked another small smile as Korrigan met his eyes again.

“It would appear that whilst their aim was to make contact to find aid for young Felix’s condition, they were planning to do so by force and use Redcliffe as a starting point for an invasion. They were unable to guess how much of this Alexius was party to, and I’m not willing to believe they would share it in entirety either. He is one boys father, and the others mentor and father to best friend.

“Still, they shared everything they did know about the Venatori’s plans, and ascertain that they were not operating under the auspices of Tevinter, so we quietly whilst Alexius was occupied had them executed.” He looked pained at the words, until Korrigan crept round and up to him, forcing him to lean down so she could rest her hand against his face.

“Poor Arthur, it pains you, you saved the mother, saved the people, saved yourself,” she pressed her head against his, until his expression cleared.

“It’s Alistair, but thank you, Korrigan if I can guess correctly?” she beamed at him, and he found himself with a new crown of white crystal grace that tinkled as he righted himself. His every day crown displaced, and hung indelicately on the corner of the table he was leaning against, much to the horrified expression on the Knight Errants face.

“Arthur, you need to knight Squire Caradoc, he has been denied for many years and it wears heavy on his purpose,” she beckoned the would be Knight forward, whilst the King looked at her with confusion.

“Whilst I am loathe to decline one such as you, Lady Korrigan, I don’t know the man from Harry, the Landsmeet would string me up for Knighting someone without reason.” He offered her an apologetic smile.

“Arthur, you must Knight him, Knight him and Claudin, to save them both from a terrible death, you must send them on a quest to find the essence that burns the blood, and on their return go to the sacred place with the mother who was, and they will take their places by your side at the round table, waiting for Noble Galahad’s return with the grail.” 

“Lady Korrigan, I do not know any Claudin, nor do I have a round table although it’s not a bad idea, none of this King being stared at by everyone else nonsense, I shall make sure to get it made. Nor do I know any Galahad, nor a grail.” 

“Galahad is Curly,” Varric pointed at him with a chicken leg, having taken advantage of the free food and drink on offer.

“I believe that she would like you to perform your other role, if I may assume,” Solas interjected as Korrigan stared at him.

“My other role?” he looked slightly bewildered, before blushing in realisation at his meaning, “You mean my acting Warden Commander role?” there was a pause as their Caradoc looked pointedly at the floor avoiding everyone's eyes.

“It would appear that we have someone who needs to be made a Warden, even though they were already supposed to be.” There was a distinctly disappointed tone in Cullen’s voice, as he turned away from their companion to address his King.

“He didn’t lie, I will say that, he never actually got to answer that question, and I will say it again, Korrigan has done her best to keep him from that.” Varric the voice of reason, if not with the added flare of a quick stir of the pot.

“Perhaps then, we could actually hear who the little Lady Korrigan would like to be a Warden, it would only be polite afterall.” There was a definite look that she was given from Cullen, who did he best to use his “I’m not mad merely disappointed” look at her, which she ignored with a blasé smile at him. 

“Squire Caradoc, soon to be Knight Caradoc, Arthur will save you now,” she waved her hand at his mouth.

“I was to be a Warden, before we ran foul of darkspawn. The Warden died saving my life, and I have worked to do him proud.” He took a deep breath, before meeting their eyes with shame dripping from his posture. “Warden Blackwall was a fine man, and he saw something in me that I had thought died back in Orlais. I was known as Thom Rainier, and my crime was heinous, performed for the furtherment of Duke Gaspard.” If looks could kill, he would have been six feet under as he announced his true name.

“Warden Blackwall, he knew Duncan, back before I was recruited. Duncan had only praise for him, and I don’t doubt that if he felt you were worth recruiting, that you are a lost cause. I shall honour his last wishes, as is his due. You will work tirelessly to honour his memory.” There was a slight sob, caught in the back of their Caradoc’s throat.

“Please, you don’t understand what I did,” the King cut him off with a quick wave of his hand.

“Did Warden Blackwall know of your crimes?”

“Yes, Warden Commander, he knew of them.”

“Then as I have said already, we must honour his last wishes. I will share with you something that is not uncommon knowledge amongst those who follow the Wardens, many of the Wardens who are recruited are done so from backgrounds that in different cases would end up with them hanging, or worse. Being a Warden is dangerous, difficult, and often thankless task. You will earn your honour back, and you will do so from the moment you take up as a recruit. It is an honour to be a Warden, and thank the Maker we have men and women who are willing to continue to do so.” He had for a moment towered over them all, his very essence oozing with power and confidence.

“Thank you, Warden Commander.”

“If you have any further doubts about your suitability, Cullen here will tell you how the actual Warden Commander joined up,” the swell of power left as quickly as it had come, and where a mountain of a man had stood was a jovial young man who grinned at their Leader.

“Curly, you never said you knew the Hero of Ferelden, you were holding out on us,”

“He was related to Hawke, I’m surprised you aren’t aware of the connection,” he gave a sardonic look at the dwarf.

“Doesn’t share how he came to be a Warden though Curly, stop holding out on us, even the King is telling you to share,” he winked at Alistair who nodded importantly back at Cullen.

“Maker’s breath, Amell decided he was going to get involved in blood magic, it was either the Wardens or Tranquility.”

“4 scarves fluttering, brilliant storytelling there, I bet you woo all the ladies with that silver tongue.”

“I mean he’s not wrong, even I wondered at what Duncan was doing when he stepped in and recruited him, but he always knew who would make a good recruit. Most of the ones of his generation did, forged through difficult times, and life experience, after Ostagar all that was lost.” He smiled gently as Korrigan, pressed a kiss on his forehead, hovering in the air wingless, before Cullen stepped in to hold her so that no questions would be asked.

“Fear not Arthur, soon you will have a full court of Knights, brave valiant Knights who will usher in the new great age,” Her fingers cupped his cheek, looking at him intensely as behind them Solas shifted imperceptibly, and Varric exchanged a questioning glance with Cadash.

“Who then is, Claudin?” the Once and Future King asked softly, his eyes widened with unwitting hope at her words.

“May I hazard a guess and assume that it is the young man who bore the taint? Or perhaps it is the other, his friend,” Solas gave the little Korrigan an almost stern look.

“Claudin, son of Claudas, who would be rival to Arthur before Arthur offers to cure the precious son,” She pressed her nose gently against the Kings, “Claudin will need a second, too frail to undertake the quest needed for Caradoc and Claudin to be Knight, Caradoc is strong and able, but for the quest to be worthy he may not bring forth for both, Claudin will need his second.” 

“Felix, and for the quest, you know what needs to be done then?” there was a flash of something, as the Warden Commander made a brief return before vanishing again.

“My noble Arthur, Korrigan sees forward, many futures spanning the Ages, Korrigan stole not the knowledge of the Knights, shares not with Snurri, nor poor Puck.” he sighed gently and leaned back away from her.

“Felix’s second will no doubt be Dorian, and you may as well all know what needs to be done. There is time, for Rainier only a race for his honour, but for Felix, he has time though time is of the essence.” he let out a piercing whistle, a servant scurrying into the hall almost instantly, before being sent off to collect the two young men mentioned.

“Best get it over and done with sooner than later, he may decline, you may decline, though I feel you will want to honour Blackwall’s request as much as the Order does.” 

“There is one other thing,” Varric drawled, checking through the copious notes he carried around with him everywhere. “Before we forget to mention it again, Korrigan here back in the beginning said you needed to ask the right questions,” 

“Ah, Snurri, you are doing your duties after all. And here we were thinking you were just writing it all down to sell as your latest piece of toilet fodder,” Cadash grinned at his lifting of his salute at her.

“And what is your role again, my noble dwarven friend, oh yes, that’s right, Carta Warrior turned ladies maid.” he yelped as she got him squarely in the chest with a mug.

“Cadash is doing a fine and upstanding job as both a Warrior and wrangler of Korrigan, you will do well to remember and honour her input.” Cullen gave him a hard stare, and Solas looked with disappointment.

“I never pegged you as being quite so petty, Varric, reducing Cadash’s accomplishments to something that you make sound demeaning. Maids work very hard, back breaking stuff, for little pay and glory. They are deserving of your respect as much as the King, no offence your Majesty.” Caradoc rounded on him, emboldened by his future Warden Commander's earlier words.

“He’s just pulling her pigtails,” Korrigan whispered loud enough for them all to hear, and snicker as both dwarves spluttered in outrage.

“Bianca is the only one for me,”

“You aren’t the only man for Bianca,” he blanched before loudly talking over her.

“So Alistair, how goes the quest for a Queen?”

“Smooth Varric, what was it you said earlier, something about, what was it silver tongue?” Cadash recovered to delight in his misfortune again.

“It goes as the last time our paths crossed, the Landsmeet is getting more insistent as each year passes,” there was a moment of mutual male solidarity at the forlorn tone.

“Perhaps that is something you should ask, Korrigan?” Alistair glanced up at her, with a curious gaze.

“You really can see the future?”

“I see forward, to many paths that lead where they may lead,” She turned to tug on Cullen’s hair, forcing him to bend down.

“Perhaps you would prefer to ask your questions alone?” Cullen gently interjected as Varric brought out his quill as the King started to get distracted by the possibility of learning the future.

They were interrupted by a bleary eyed Dorian, and an excited looking Felix, who almost bowled the bleary Dorian over as he stuttered to a stop at seeing the hall full of strangers.

“Ah, apologies for waking you up, please, these fine people are the reason for why the Venatori's plans failed so spectacularly, Dorian is the less alert looking of the two, and Felix is the one who looks like he is going to pounce.” it wasn’t an inaccurate description of the pair, Felix had spotted the familiar form of Varric who looked very much like his cover picture.

“King Alistair, if I had known who it was I would have brought my books, I have every single one of your volumes Master Tethras, even the unofficial alternative volumes of the Tale of the Champion, and some illustrated works of Swords and Shield. If I could ask, would you sign all of them?” He babbled, pushing passed an increasingly pissy Dorian, who was struggling to smooth his clothing down, having hastily gotten dressed after being summoned.

“If you have the unofficial versions I would be most interested in seeing them,” the dwarf drawled, sending Felix into an excited spiral.

“Dorian, Felix, may I introduce you to Cullen Rutherford, former Knight Captain of Kirkwall, former Commander of the Inquisition forces and current Knight Errant?” he gave him a slightly questioning look, “and an old friend of mine.” the man in question performed a perfunctual bow to them both, which had Dorian perking up.

“In his arms, is the Harbinger Korrigan, her female companion and bodyguard Anyanka Cadash, formerly of the Carta currently of the Inquisition, Varric Tethras a former travelling companion of mine and as you already seem to be aware, author extraordinaire. Solas, a mystical advisor and Mage of the Inquisition, and Thom Rainier, soon to be Warden, currently of the Inquisition.” All but Korrigan bowed as their Knight had, if not with the same solemnity to it, Korrigan had given a sleepy smile, retreating back into Cullen’s chest as her default had been.

“Charmed, I’m sure. However, perhaps we might enquire why we had to be pulled from our beds to meet tonight, instead of waiting until luncheon as civilised people are want to do?” The snark was real as Dorian used a knife’s reflection to try and style his moustache.

“Apologies Dorian, I of course was merely dying to be in your presence yet again, for every hour we part company, weighs heavy on my very essence,” there was a mutual exchange of smirks, as Dorian preened. “However, I need to offer Felix an opportunity, which I am ashamed to say I had not considered until the Lady Korrigan reminded me of.” There was a curious glance sent her way, as Felix’s attention fled from Varric to the small female.

“Claudin and Caradoc, taking up their places as Knights of the Round,” 

“And that was as clear as mud,” 

“Perhaps, if you waited long enough to hear someone else speak for once, Dorian, it would make sense?” Felix headed the start of a tired rant off, almost before it had begun.

“Indeed, Caradoc is Rainier, the Lady Korrigan has alternative names for most people it would seem, and Felix, you are Claudin, son of Claudus.” Alistair raised his hand as Dorian opened his mouth again, to which he pretended to check his teeth instead.

“As you are aware, I am a Warden as well as a King, though my role as Warden is Acting Warden Commander,” there was a look of disbelief as he started to ramble, “Anyway, as Varric will attest to, one of the things Wardens can do, is offer someone who has the taint a chance to survive,” Felix caught his breath, moving closer to Dorian who had grabbed hold of the knife, by the blade.

“It isn’t a guaranteed chance for success, and the exchange is you would be a Warden. Rainier here is also being given the opportunity he has been denied for so long,” there was a look of sympathy from Felix, even as Rainier shook his head, “If you are willing then we can talk about what will need to be done. I can give you time to think about-”

“I will do it,”

“Felix, surely you need a chance to consider what it might mean?”

“Dorian, I have accepted I was going to die, but if I could do more, if I could be more, a chance to join the fabled Warden’s, the saviour of the Blight, surely that is worth more than rolling over and greeting death with a whimper?”

“Felix, I don’t want you to die, but you hear stories,” he had dropped into a hushed whisper, whilst Alistair looked on with no small amount of amusement.

“I will happily discuss with you the dangers of going down this path, all I would ask if you do decide against, the secrets to be kept, a vow of silence as you will.” Varric perked up at this. “Felix will get the secrets, if I told you Varric it would be spread through all the lands, and whilst we have been working at making the Warden’s less mysterious, we still need to retain some secrets for recruiting purposes.”

“And that tells me more than you could guess,” 

“However, what I can tell you if you agree to it, is that there needs to be a quest set out to complete as a test of your mettle. But it is dangerous, and whilst Rainier is in a healthy state to undertake such a feat, it would be advisable for you to have your second do so,” there was a pause as everyone looked towards Dorian who was now busy filing his nails with a small white stone, whilst admiring his rings.

“Bors the Younger, gallant and loyal, a worthy second to Claudin,” 

“I’m not sure how I feel about being called a boor, even by one as charming in feature as you, little lady,” He sniffed, whilst Felix reminded Cadash of a much taller Korrigan in how he was practically buzzing.

“Bors is a noble name, one of the true Knights of Arthur's table, but if you desire it so, Bragi is a fair name for one of wordsmiths,”

“Wait a second, a true Knight?”

“You do brag an awful amount Dorian, I mean a boor and a braggart, she seems to have you pegged and she’s barely met you,” Felix babbled over the shocked question, barrelling over his friend, redirecting him to the playful outrage only childhood friends can have.

“The quest to be undertaken is to collect samples from a darkspawn nest that has rumoured to be causing issues along an entrance to the Deep Roads here in the Hinterlands. If it hadn’t been for the mess here, and the uproar it would cause at court, I would have headed there before setting off for Denerim again. However, with such worthy candidates, I can think of no better thing than for you to both prove your worth, and to remove a threat.” 

“You want us to kill darkspawn, as a test?” a moment of silence at the quiet question from Caradoc, who looked pale.

“I would like to know more about why we should get samples, surely the fact that they are dead is good enough, or do you not trust that they are without samples?” Dorian had warmed back up into outrage.

“Killing darkspawn is arguably the main duty of a Warden, these have started to cause an issue. As for the reasons behind the samples, we do have reasons, it is not a slur on your good name for it to be asked for. In fact it is a time honoured right, just be grateful we don’t ask for a sample from an Archdemon.” 

“Why thank you, your Royal Highness, for allowing us not to seek out an Archdemon to scrape for scales as a prize for the Wardens,”

“Oh Dorian, it needs to be something far more wet and bloody,” at this Dorian started spluttering like a cat. 

“You want blood, tainted blood, from Darkspawn?”

“Best not to think about it, Dorian, and I can go, I feel as healthy as I have so far,”

“Felix, when I tell you to try not to die, going to fight darkspawn isn’t high on the list of recommended activities to keep you alive.”

“Perhaps we should adjourn for the night? If you can share the location of where they have been spotted then, we can be back before we head to Haven and on to Orlais.” Alistair grimaced as his friend mentioned Orlais. 

They were shortly funnelled off to the family quarters of the castle, with Korrigan ensorcelled by Alistair's crown that he had willingly handed over as she had gone to reach for it. Causing a minor incident when she then later vanished only to be found by the waterside, his crown, his “every day” crown, now attached to a small shrine bearing her name. For once Cullen had looked upset with her actions, until she produced a more delicate looking crown, woven with fine gems that glistened in the moonlight like fine scales on a fish. 

Alistair had seemed happy enough, he claimed that it fit better than the old one had, having been a hand me down from his brother, whilst this had been designed by the Harbinger. They had even managed to get a promise from her that it would last, although Varric had flicked him the ring she had woven from the first meal, still pure metal.

Their horses were returned, and Felix had been convinced to stay behind and speak to his father, whilst Dorian who had now had enough sleep, was dressed, sober and almost ready to take on darkspawn. Almost ready. He had been momentarily diverted the previous evening from the question as to his future, and hadn’t been convinced when Alistair had suggested no fewer than three samples of tainted blood. But Korrigan was riding at the front with Cullen, whilst Varric was trying to get as much of his biography as he could from the Tevinter Mage.

There had been an element of surprise when they had been given the location, the name hadn’t meant a thing , Valammar, until the copious scraps of paper were searched through as it grated like a spec of sand on a gear. The location had been very familiar, it was almost as if fate had intervened, with a side eye to there little Harbinger who had been the reason for them not doubling back before.

Still, they were able to sweep into the old Apostate hangout and pilfer the treasures now revealed by the stars as she had predicted before. Even Solas had shown fascination for the inner workings of what had previously been a plain wall.

Korrigan’s shrine was looking vibrant and plentiful, as opposed to the Avvar which had become so weatherbeaten it was almost impossible to make out any individual markings at all. Another side eye at their small female who had preened as fresh offerings of trinkets and toys had appeared since their first visit.

The Carta had returned in full force, appearing as soon as they made their way up behind the waterfall, causing more cursing from Cadash as they had targeted her in particular, recognising the brand if not her. And in return she had smashed her way through leaving little for the others.

The door was summarily opened, and as they entered a loud vibrating blast echoed through the crevices below, causing some rockfall from above, with Varric cursing Caradoc to high heavens for forcing him into the Deep Roads yet again. As it was, Dorian kept very firmly at the back, wary of the idea of following the same fate as Felix, whilst Rainier took point, Korrigan darting in and out of the large Carta force that poured out of the large Dwarven halls that lined the pathway down to where they could spy even from this height evidence of Darkspawn.

There were notes that shared how closely the Carta had been monitoring the fledgling Inquisitions actions, even down to where they had last camped, down to which scout had been on watch. It had been enough to decide the fate of their would be watchers, their Knight Errant, diverting them off the path from downwards to break the Carta stronghold, until every last dwarf was dead. 

Varric’s tinkering prowess with Bianca coming into use as he was tasked with working out the door mechanic, with one cog in place, ready for when they would find the remaining. A braver Hurlock greeted them at the bridge leading further down, with Dorian overreacting and exploding it with an intensive immolate, forcing Caradoc to rear back to evade being burnt to a cinder along with it.

“You realise we are supposed to be collecting blood, Dorian?” 

“I was only trying to protect you from being tainted.” came the cocky response, masking the slight flush of embarrassment at his over reaction.

“Because the last thing a Warden candidate wants to be is tainted,” there was a dry remark from Cadash, who was busy trying to hop past the still blazing corpse before Caradoc bashed it off the edge with his shield, there was no comment when they lost track of where it landed, with Cullen keeping a firm hold on Korrigan who had hovered over the edge a couple of times whilst darting behind the enemies that seemed to appear the moment they stepped foot onto the bridge. 

The other cog was soon located, along with more darkspawn, this time Dorian was controlled by being pushed back round the corner away from the large group of Hurlocks and Genlocks that were crawling out of a large gap in a crumbled away wall. It had proven a risky move, as one of the rooms they had previously cleared out produced an Alpha which launched itself at the cocky mage.

The battle between the group now pinned between a rampaging Alpha and a large group of lesser spawn, was fraught with peril, with curses flying at several near misses, and intense silence as for several moments Korrigan disappeared off the edge of the path into the deep dark depths. She reappeared on top of the Alphas head, daggers piercing its eyes, skewering their way into its head, causing it to fall down dead, blood gushing all over both her and Dorian who had been pinned in a corner. The let up of the Alpha soon had the others falling quickly by the wayside, cleaved through with large great swords, and bashed into the abyss with several well timed shield bashes.

Solas quickly shored up the collapsed wall, Caradoc collecting the samples needed, whilst Cullen and Cadash poured all of their water over the drenched two, checking over each for cuts and scrapes where the blood had touched skin, Cullen even going as far as to inspecting Korrigan’s open mouth and throat to check she hadn’t inadvertently swallowed any.

As soon as they were given an optimistic clean bill of health, they were both completely stripped, Korrigan bundled up in a space tunic that Cadash had in her pack, and Dorian suffering the indignity of having to wear piecemeal items from the men, each lending an item they could spare, leaving him looking very much like a patchwork doll. 

The treasure room had been a delight, with the strange cog operated door opened with the second cog found, they had been set upon immediately by more spawn, this time both Solas and Dorian using their inferno magics to wipe them out before they could get remotely near, with no word of complaint even as the fires burnt what appeared to be historic looking art work.It was clear that the spawn had a way in and out without using the intricate lock, though they were unable to find it.

Not even Varric had been tempted to take anything from the room, covered in a fine layer of darkspawn ashes, the smell clinging to their clothes as they made it back into the open air. A quick decision to wash away any remnants before mounting up, fresh clothes being produced for them all, then setting back off to Redcliffe, avoiding all Inquisition camps with a small amount of guilt expressed on Cullen’s face as they all but brushed past a scout on patrol.

Still Alistair had been pleased to see them back, and uninjured. He had done his best to reassure Dorian after his bath courtesy of the Alpha, but had warned him to keep watch on his health, promising that if his situation was to change he would be given the same opportunity as Felix, and he would treat Valammar as his preharrowing test, to which he was granted a slightly caustic look in return.

They had flat out asked Korrigan if she had been infected, to which she had given an unconcerned smile, pressing a kiss on her Knight’s cheek as he had Alistair check her over to make doubly sure, before she was pushed with Cadash into a baking hot bath, where every inch of her skin was scraped and polished to get rid of the last of the taint.

It had been decided that Caradoc, Felix and Dorian were to remain with Alistair until after the Harrowing, where Dorian at the very least would be free to rejoin them, he hadn’t promised with the other two.

“It is something that I had been meaning to mention to you, before we parted ways. We’ve lost touch with the other Warden’s. I’m not sure how willing we should be to release fresh Wardens into the wilderness without guidance.” he’d given a wry smile, “Even if it was what happened a decade ago. Amaranthine has a small, but loyal stronghold, but there is something definitely happening.” 

“Pelius plays with powers he has under pretences false, fooling and despairing, a spiderweb of fear, but worry not Arthur, the grail will be found ‘fore your time is done” 

“I’m not sure if I should find that reassuring or not, but it helps.” she placed her hand over his heart, resting her forehead against his.

“Be strong Arthur, the lady of the Lake has awoken, Noble Galahad prepares for his tasks ahead, Merlin will return, the Knights will be true and just, and a new Age will bare witness” There was a hum of power that filled the room, settling on the two touching, Alistair's eyes changing to a golden hue, before the glimmer dissipated.

“Lady Korrigan, we will meet again, I will think on which are the right questions to ask, you and the Inquisition will always be welcome to Denerim, I only hope our next meeting will be one of better auspices.” He closed his eyes as her hand cupped his cheek, her hand dwarfed by his size and yet he appeared to be the smaller one.

“Take the mother, take the mages, they risk much if they remain. Claudas no longer a threat now that Claudin is saved.” 

“It has merit, Teagan will struggle to lead an army should the Venatori decide to try and take the Mages again,” there was a soft murmuring of agreement, before their resident storyteller coughed loudly.

“Perhaps you could ask about the mother?” Alistair glanced at him, with a strange expression.

“Perhaps I should follow the advice from before, and wait until I am alone with the Lady Korrigan before asking such a question?”


	12. Return to Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harding is very scary, Cullen is charming, Korrigan torments Solas, they get a new recruit, rescue some scouts, and Korrigan tells a story.
> 
> aka Oh shit - Korrigan got real

It was a subdued group who left in the morning, even with the reassurance from their Harbinger that they would meet up again, there was the unspoken, if you survive as they bid the future Wardens luck in their joining. And then onward to the base camp, Cullen looking very much the guilty Templar as they neared the camp, his posture stiffening even as Korrigan weaved in and out between his legs in what Cadash described as an attempt to calm him down, and their resident Mage an effort to distract them all.

Still, in his own personal opinion, it was clear that she was chasing something, something that he was unable to see, but had her fascinated. Puck was keeping quiet though, though he suspected he could also see what it was she was chasing, even if he didn’t approve. 

“Sir,” Ah, Harding, it wasn’t if they were too delayed in their return, and they hadn’t misled her after the strange route back the previous day from Valammar, and what a shit hole that had been, Deep Roads, Carta and Darkspawn, a combination of his least favourite things, if they’d thrown in some Qunari it would have just rounded the party right out.

“Harding, we are on our way back to Haven now,” Ah Curly, whats the worst they could do, slap you on the wrist, the good we’ve done, clearing out enemies wherever we’ve stepped, reducing the bear population by thousands, or thousands of thousands, aided the Crown and made ties with the Wardens. They’ll be pleased as punch, or at least Ruffles will, Nightingale will no doubt demand all the notes handed over and why didn’t we keep the leaders alive so that she could interrogate them. Cassandra though, who knows, she’d either be proud of their efforts or give a detailed list of how they could have done it faster, with less risk and better results.

Or stabbed a book.

He ducked behind the now overtly scowling mage as his snort caught the attention of the perky looking scout who was busy trying to interrupt the humans detailed explanation as to why they were delayed. 

“Sir, but”

“Noble Galahad, it’s time, the Berisgar have your clan” bless the little Korrigan at times, as she managed to break through the rather dull recounting of their previous day.

“Curly, you know she did say after we saw Arthur, we would be able to retrieve your clan from the Berisgar,” better to jump in before Harding can, remind the former Templar of his given purpose, as Cadash kept pointing out. 

“Sir, word has come through from Haven, we are to travel to the Fallow Mire, some of our men have gone missing, and Lady Cassandra has requested that it would be a “ she checked the note before blushing, “A better use of your time if you travelled their before taking respite in Haven, and then, well, she doesn’t have the clearest of handwriting, I think the rain has smudged the ink.” 

Even from here he could see his name, Cassandra must have put a love missive on the end for him, he would make sure to snatch it before they departed, and see what had Harding in a tizzy about reading.

“See Curly, we didn’t have to run away from that scout after all,” Who knew Elves could be so useful, even without using his magic he made a pretty good barrier against dirty looks and projectiles. 

“The men aren’t missing then, they have been taken if our Lady Korrigan is correct and there is no reason to doubt her,” he pressed a kiss to her hand, sending her into fits of giggles as she often did when he acted courtly towards her. Now that was a relationship he was constantly in flux with. There were times he suspected that there was something else going on beyond indulgent protective father and child, still it had Harding unwinding from her uncomfortable stance at having to read the diplomatic Cassandra’s words.

“Is there anyone in the Fallow Mire, beyond our men? Last reports I saw had the area deserted due to the plague outbreak, wiping out the few settlements that were set up for the region.” Ah, and there he is, the leader, always a trip with Curly.

“Avvar have a presence in the region, though how much we have no accurate information. We were to check for resources and rifts, and then the group that was sent sent failed to make contact. I’m packed and ready to leave as soon as you are,” What was it about Curly that had the women fluttering their lashes, even the dwarven ones. It was subtle, but there was that slight flush of the cheeks, ah, what was he pretending for, the man was a classic romantic hero, and coupled with Korrigan he could almost hear the cries of the unborn babies they were all imagining him fathering with them.

“Well if Varric is ready to stop daydreaming, then we shall away?” Shit, for a warrior Cadash was stealthy, how had she managed to sneak up behind him like that.

“Oh Harding, do you want to share with me, dwarven solidarity? You can tell me all about how a simple farmer's daughter becomes a highly esteemed scout for the menace that is the Nightingale.” Always better to remind Cadash he was a prize to all who looked upon him.

“No need to worry about that, Master Dennet has provided us with extra mounts, as a reward for the first of the watchtowers being completed. He was pleased with the work the scouts have been doing to bring food in for the refugees, and for our work at keeping watch over the roads.” How did the scouts get the credit for that, no, maybe they were right, maybe he had lost his way since leaving Kirkwall. It was Cassandra’s fault, he would reconnect with the people again, and if he could get some fodder for a new serial all the better.

“It’s good to hear that the people are seeing the work all of the Inquisition is doing, and not just focusing on the Harbinger,” He could hear twins cry out from Harding as Curly dropped that absolute jewel on her. 

“We are only following the example that our leaders have set out for us,” the unspoken, you instead of leaders clear, that even Cadash grinned wickedly at their blond bombshell of a Templar.

“If we have finished the mutual appreciation society, perhaps we could depart? Whilst we have had a couple of nights within four walls, I would like to get back to Haven at some point this Age,” Ah, and the elf does it again, although how much has to do with the fact that it looked like their little Korrigan had just eaten thin air he could only guess. Still it had been enough to get them moving, with Korrigan, did he just see her glow for a moment, and is she breathing out glimmer? Sometimes it is better to just not ask, especially going from Pucks wet cat impression.

It came as no surprise when it rained for the entirety of the trip, the wet cat spreading quickly amongst all of them barring their fearless leader and Korrigan who had napped on and off the entire way, even declining food when offered.

Harding however had been a joy and a delight, in between talks with Cadash, who was able to turn any conversation she had with the scout into a disparaging all Merchants, and reading out excerpts from his worst serial with overly mocking accents, seemingly quiet enough that Curly was unable to hear them after the first time when he had purposely covered Korrigan’s ears.

Which had then led into a spirited conversation with the elf about how she wasn’t a child, he was still clearly upset at whatever had happened at the Hinterlands base camp. And again at the first shrine they had stopped at for a nights rest. And what kept happening every time they stopped anywhere near a shrine there after. It was getting to the point that Galahad would have to step in and ask what the problem was, because he was staying well away from that box of ill packed bombs.

Still, for all Galahad’s covering of ears, he could have sworn he saw him snickering after a particularly shrill rendition of one of his admittedly worse love scenes. And Puck, well Puck when he wasn’t sulking, or “feeling the fade” or whatever he was trying to do every time he sulked. Was spending his time, making helpful comments on sentence structure and highlighting inconsistencies in the plot. 

At least he could rely on Korrigan to have not paid any attention to their carrying on, she truly appreciated his art, and valued his words. It wasn’t his fault he was surrounded by heathen carta, corrupting innocent farming dwarves. 

But Harding other when the harpy was corrupting her, was good company. If the tale was a little dull as she told it, he could draw enough from it to create a farm girl turned hero tale for the kids, something to encourage the youth of the day to take up arms. And maker did he wish they wouldn’t be needed, but he could see where this was heading. Even when they closed the breach there would be the problem of who caused it to deal with. 

Galahad had received enough reports from the deadly Nightingale to alert them to the amount of rifts that had spread through the lands, and it would take months to clear up, even without dealing with anything else. And quite clearly it would never be a simple case of closing a rift, there would always be some other tasks to do as well as. Feeding the poor, collecting chickens for a farmer, counting clouds, it was like Kirkwall all over again. But a much wider area to cover, and more demons, less abominations though which was pleasant.

The news from the front had been bad, reading between the lines that was. The Chantry were panicking, that much was certain, even with the success of stopping the breach from expanding, word had gotten out of Haven that the Harbinger wasn’t Human. The last missive he’d spied before it had been burnt, had been that they were treating her as a dwarven child, which was a much better turn out than “Korrigan, then The Korrigan, then many Korrigans, then just Korrigan, first and last, oldest and youngest” which she had uttered so often. 

Part of him thought perhaps that her race was called Korrigan, as she had said it translated into little dwarf, so if they questioned too closely no one was actually lying. Though he doubted the Chantry would see it that way. She hadn’t explained why her wings had disappeared at Redcliffe and reappeared as soon as they had left either.

He’d bring it up next time she was awake enough to hear a story, she was more receptive to personal questions then. She would stare at him, and he knew that for that moment, he was the whole of her world, that his stories were etching themselves on her being. He could almost taste a longing the last time back at the Crossroads whilst they were setting up to begin. A longing for what, he could only hazard a guess and nothing he was willing to lay odds on. But he was beginning to come to the conclusion that someone else had once been Snurri to her, as had Galahad and Puck. They were both titles and names, that he was almost sure of.

Harding though, Harding was simple, she did her best with a ready smile and a cheery disposition, and did it well. Her advice on reaching the Hinterlands had helped cut down some of the travel drastically, and she was proving a keen hunter, which had left him off the hook for dinner duty. All in the name of her keeping distracted from worrying about the missing men, or kidnapped men as he was no doubt sure they would be when they found them.

The Mire though, it was a prime example of why he didn’t like to leave a good tavern. The undead, bogs, plague, gruesome looking flowers that Korrigan kept putting on everyone's mounts and plaiting into their hair just to make sure they were completely covered. Bugs, more undead, more bogs, mystical shit that forces more undead out of the water with demons, rifts, more undead, more boggy land to try and walk on.

Puck had started getting irate after Korrigan had darted off catching air around a warding stone that they had set off and then stabilised. So much so that Galahad had finally intervened after he had started barriering said air, with Korrigan bouncing off it harmlessly.

“Enough, Korrigan settle down, you’ll disturb the water-”

“Wasn’t the whole point of fighting all of those undead and that demon, according to Solas, was to stop them from stirring when she goes and collects the flowers?” He handed it to Cadash, she was a brave, sorry she had been because there was no way she would be make it out alive, warrior dwarf.

“Korrigan, please can you stop eating them, they don’t like it.” Ah, so he had spoken to her, he thought at this point the elf was merely trying to make her see she was upsetting him with not so subtle visual clues, or relying on her ability to futuretell. 

“Is this why she isn’t eating with us during the day?” Maker Galahad, lets worry about her missing a meal not what she’s consuming that is so annoying the elf. It was clear the elf also agreed on the focus on the wrong point he had trying to make.

“She is consuming wisps,” Nope, he wasn’t going to try and figure out what that meant.

“Korrigan, you shouldn’t eat wisps, you are ruining your appetite,” was that a smirk hiding on Galahad’s lips, no, was it? 

“Korrigan shouldn’t eat wisps because it will ruin her appetite, are you being serious?” No that was definitely a smirk. He definitely caught that one, even if his face was bland when he turned back round to talk to Puck, who was very much wet catting it.

“Forgive me, that was unfair. Please explain how the Lady Korrigan is consuming wisps, is she using the mark, and killing them that way?” Now if he was a betting man, he would guess that was not what Puck meant, not if the way she was openly chewing behind Galahad’s back, whilst staring at Puck with what could only be described as a shit eating smirk on her face, was any way to go by. To his credit he merely stiffened.

“She is catching them in her hand, using the mark to lure them in, and then eating them like a cat does with moths.” well that was matter of fact, he almost admired the restraint in his voice, if not for how his knuckles were white and the wood on his staff splintering beneath them.

“Can you even eat wisps?” He could rely on Cadash to ask the questions Galahad didn’t want to know because it would dent his world view on the creature that is Korrigan.

“That is a question. Any of us would not be able to,” he was winding up to something that would no doubt be completely ignored by Galahad as it didn’t fit in, and would resonate with the rest of them but yet they would continue to ignore it because that’s what they continued to do. “Spirits however can and do, greater spirits that is, and ones that have a less than glowing reputation with the Chantry.” And there is was, he was all but saying only demons ate wisps. 

“Are you implying that Korrigan is a spirit?” Almost missing the message, and even he could feel himself starting to ignore it. 

“I am merely pointing out, yet again, that Korrigan is nothing that we have come across before” he completely meant himself there, it was obvious to everyone that Puck had the most amount of experience with denizens of the world. “I am merely pointing out that only what the Chantry declares are Demons eat wisps,” and Korrigan was quite clearly still eating what Puck was calling wisps, even if they couldn’t see them, the glowing clouds on her breath afterwards could easily be described as wispish in nature.

“I am merely pointing out, yet again that whilst Korrigan has done nothing wrong to us, or the Inquisition that we are aware of, we know nothing of her origins beyond what she has told us. Which has been confusing, and perhaps deliberately so.” Even Galahad couldn’t ignore the message when so clearly stated, wait, what message.

They fought their way onwards, Korrigan fluttering across the murky water to pick the finest grotty looking blooms, which she insisted on weaving into his buttons, after he had had to stop her from trying to plait his chest hair with them, egged on by Cadash, only Galahad had been able to intervene.

Puck was looking disgruntled but after he had been listened to with the warding monument he was cheering up, even allowing Korrigan to hold his hand whilst searching a rotting wooden cabin, whilst clearing a second warding monument, and continuing to do so as the first wonderful rift appeared behind an Avvar on the road through to the next lovely monument.

“Greetings Bergrisi,” her wings were on full display, somehow glimmering as if adorned with the finest jewels as she curtseyed in front of the Avvar giant, somewhat stunning them all, he was certainly speechless as he returned with a respectful bow.

“The Lady spoke of gods returning to heal the sky, we are honoured by your presence, if you decide to leave the lowlanders you will be welcome in any hold,” Well that had Galahad bristling.

“We have come in search of our missing men, and as the Lady Korrigan has mentioned that they were taken by the Bergrisar,” he was impressed, he had mimicked the sound well, “ and the Lady Korrigan greeted you as such,” not a bad assessment of the situation although it sounded slightly different at the end, “May I presume you know where our missing men are?”

“Inquisition, they fought well, took a few of ours out when they stumbled into the trap the braggart left. They are alive, for now. He seeks to take out the leader of the Inquisition, and so you have come, I wish you well lowlander, you are blessed by your god, it bodes well for your success and if not, well then I will be at your pyre.” Ah, it was close to reassuring until he spoke of the pyre.

If he had to describe what happened next, well his fans would never buy it, not even in a swords and shields chapter. Korrigan took the Avvar by the hand, and lead him to where there was a tiny tear in the sky not yet ripped open, and lifted his hand with hers, pointing it out at the centre of the tear, and instead of it opening as the first few had when she had done so before, this merely stitched up, disappearing completely. 

Puck looked horrified at what she had done, whilst the Avvar, Amund as he introduced himself later, had tears pouring down his cheeks, kneeling in front of her whilst she had his face cupped in her hands, reminiscent of the King of days before.

“I will pray to the Lady that you succeed Inquisition, I will join your cause, your god has blessed me,” How she had blessed him, he had no clue, and Puck was speechless.

“Skywatcher, Bergrisi, kin against the Æsir, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh,” he didn’t have enough imagination to fathom how an Avvar that had four times the height on Korrigan could be flesh and blood.

“My Lady, I will guide you across,” well Galahad wasn’t looking best pleased as she embraced the former stranger with the same enthusiasm as she did him. Or perhaps not quite, there it was, that look back and the smile that had him melting into a doting father cooing over the latest adorable thing his offspring has done.

Still Amund proved useful, guiding them to a rift they would never have come across without going completely off the beaten track to find. after clearing out another warding monument, nor the crazy apostate who had been given an option to live before they made the mistake of attacking their Harbinger as she started chasing air again. Why she did that was beyond him.

This time when she took Amund by the hand, he explained what she was doing. The power that coursed through her arm, and stitched up the sky like fine thread through flesh, how he could feel the sky being mended. He wasn’t sure he fully understood why it was enough to make the man weep yet again, but it was clearly a religious experience, like when he got a new upgrade for the divine Bianca.

Puck this time was dragged into the occasion, Korrigan throwing the man a bone as she placed his hand beneath hers whilst Amund’s was above, lacing her fingers with their irascible elf. He didn’t weep, but he had the same longing that she expressed whilst listening to the stories.

He’d been even more pleased with the artifact that she had guided him to, hidden in between a pile of crates and furs, the earlier upset seemingly forgotten and forgiven for the time being at least.

A final monument down, and even Galahad remarked on the easing of pressure in the air, a break from the undead was welcome, though he spoke too soon as they were greeted by a ravening horde of the blasted things, being fought off from the crumbling walls behind which the rest of Amund’s former hold lay with the missing Inquisition men. The Avvar though had politely not shot at them as they fought their way closer, no doubt a mixture of the now vibrant glow that Korrigan was emitting whilst fluttering at Galahad head height, and Amund’s bulk and bellows. 

“Greetings Skywatcher, you bring us a god, and a leader for sport, Ladies blessing upon us indeed,” That was almost as reassuring as the pyre speech from before.

“The Lady Korrigan has blessed me with her gift, she healed the sky twice and shared it generously. The signs were right, the braggart may have done something right afterall.” 

“He is waiting, the ransom is safe for now, and will be handed to the Lady Korrigan as soon as your Leader performs his duty.” Well they didn’t say he had to win, though Galahad was brutal given the right impetus, and he had been concerned at Inquisition forces being used to force a fight.

The place stank of death, unsurprisingly considering what was the other side of the now closed barricade, or the bog, or the flowers that seemed to have multiplied in their presence amongst their clothes.

The Braggart, or Hand of Korth as he announced himself to Korrigan with an almost as low bow as Amund had managed, as she had offered him a hand, and not a curtsey, was huge. Far larger than Galahad, but he was shaken from the moment Korrigan had placed a kiss on her Knights forehead, even with little understanding of the Avvar, it was clear that this was a confidence knocker. 

From the moment the duel, for that was what it amounted to when all was said and done, the Hand of Korth was visibly shaken, he kept looking at her, distracted and fumbling as she smiled only for her Knight, who took every misstep, every fumble, every opening and punished him for it. A fair fight it was not, and he didn’t doubt Galahad’s abilities to have won in a fair fight but it was clear Korrigan wasn’t taking any chances. She was the image of a Lady of the best stories, all her Knight was missing was a handkerchief wrapped around his hilt. 

It came as no surprise when the Hand fell down to the floor, his neck bared in front of her feet, his eyes seeking out hers yet again, whilst Galahad came up behind him, stilling his blade against the exposed skin with a silent question. 

“My Lady?” he had to feel the weight of the blade, and still he was seeking favour from the one who had declined it. 

“Noble Galahad, protector of the Korrigan, best of all the Knights, Leader of the Inquisition.” her voice, that lilting mixture of almost conflicting accents, sounded more regal than it had ever done before. “I name you Bergrisi, kin of my kin, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood.” the look on his face as she spoke the latter, the way she extended a hand to him to bring him to his feet, whilst Galahad moved to stand next to her, making it clear of his position in her favour. 

The remainder of their time with the Avvar was spent with Korrigan acting very much the regal Lady, and Galahad her favoured Knight. He remained by her side, looking dangerous and semi divine, his armour reflecting the glow she emitted in an unnatural way. Their men, Cadash had scowled at him when he’d described them as their men, being that more than half were women, but really it was a better description than Inquisition forces, which made them sound like a precursor to an invasion… Their men, had been cared for well enough, a few injuries that had stemmed from their capture, with their kidnappers offering praise at how well they had fought. 

It was almost too easy, after the Hand had yielded, they all just piled round the small Harbinger, hanging on to every word she spoke, touching her robe, jostling each other to get closer. When she had done her shrine act, they pestered all of them for the locations of others, of which their elf had fluctuated between annoyance and despair. Still they were adept guides, and the trip back through the Mire with a legion of Avvar escorts, made it much faster, even with the injured.

Harding looked more than a little shocked, Why she hadn’t been expecting something outrageous to happen after she had heard of the exploits leading to their delay in returning to Haven, just led him to believe that she really didn’t have much of an imagination. It was interesting though, to see the power balance change as soon as they were left with only Amund, the others returning to their hold to spread word of the Lady Korrigan, and the Inquisition, though it was pretty clear which they felt more important. Galahad had returned to his parental leaderly ways, and Korrigan her innocent flower child act. 

It had meant that with the return of the missing men, and no more missives from Haven to instruct them where to go next instead of taking some well earnt respite, they were able to plan to return to the luxuries of a village that had not only a Tavern, but also enough housing for all of its occupants. A roof, and walls, and a bed, he could hear it calling him from across the mountains. 

The injured men had left them with a small quandary, one that was quickly dealt with when Cadash was forced to ride with the elf, leaving Harding with her mount so that she would be able to travel with another to collect a cart to take the injured back, and that Amund could travel with them. He had been all for sharing with the dwarf, it had been Puck who had suggested that in the interest of retaining sanity the two dwarves of the piece were kept apart.

It wasn’t a long trip back, in comparison with the rest of the time they had spent away from Haven, from an actual bed, from the delights of cooked food that didn’t have bugs in it, and marks to bet against whilst supping on ale that bore little resemblance to anything drinkable but killed off all the nasty ill humours.

Galahad had offered to delay returning, to ensure the men got back safely, but even Puck had made a noise that reminded him of the Seeker, ah, the Seeker, she would be missing him greatly by now. 

It had been a pleasant surprise however to hear the interactions between Korrigan and Amund, who had managed to draw several stories from her, to which Cadash owned up to hearing some of before.

“My Lady Korrigan, you claimed me as kin,” he had been wondering that, as had everyone bar Galahad from the expressions hidden and not so hidden on their faces.

“In the beginning there was only ice, ice and poison covering all that was Ginnungagap, before the dawn of the worlds. Aurgelmir, both father and mother to all who came after, a mighty Hrimpurs, from which Bergrisar became after the evil Æsir slew their maker. As the ice melted and dripped a mighty cow, Audhumla the second being that roamed the world before, provided sustenance so that Aurgelmir was able to give birth from the sweat under his arms, his first of children, a male and female Hrimpur and then a third from sweat betwixt his legs.” she paused, suddenly cautious with her words.

“Perhaps Korrigan, you could explain the difference between Hrimpurs and Bergisar?” The silence had gone on long enough that the question was a welcome diversion as the small female stopped.

“Hrimpurs of ice, Bergrisars of mountains, all begin with Aurgelmir,”

“But you are a nain, a dwarf yes?” now that was an interesting look.

“Korrigan is little dwarf,” and that look again, that careful look, masked behind careful weaving of hair and flowers.

“Perhaps you could enlighten us how you are kin?” the elf hadn’t completely forgiven her for whatever she had been doing before to earn his ire.

“Nains were formed from the blood and bone of Brimir, Brimir being to Ymir as Aurgelmir was to Brimir.” He would like to claim he caught on the fastest, but it was Galahad of all people, Galahad who had been going through more messages whilst his charge used his shoulder as a perch to tell her tale.

“Which is to say Aurgelmir is Brimir, as is Ymir?” the look of adoration, as if he had said the most wonderful thing she had ever heard, was enough to use as a sugar substitute in sweet rolls.

“So as a nain coming from Brimirs blood, and the Skywatcher as a Bergisar who came from Aurgelmir’s sweat, you are kin?” there was a hesitation at Puck’s reasoning. 

“Korrigan and Bergisi are kin from Aurgelmir,” and she turned her smile to the newest Inquisition recruit, offering him her hand again, whilst Galahad stabilised her from wobbling off, with an absent minded adjustment.

“I am pleased that a god with such power as you, Lady Korrigan, would treat me so kindly as kin,” 

“Kin against the Æsir, for they slew Aurgelmir and created the world, his blood drowning all but two Hrimpurs, whilst the evil Æsir threw his body into Ginnungagap, his flesh became the earth, his unbroken bones the mountains, his teeth and jaw the rocks and boulders that scatter the lands. His blood became the rivers, lakes and sea, his skull the sky which the Æsir forced four nains to hold up high. 

“The Æsir, who were once Hrimpurs turned on their kin, they believed they were better and more, they banded together, three noble Gods, Odin, Vili and Ve, too weak to challenge alone, using kin against kin.” 

“So the Æsir are the gods who turned on Aurgelmir?” 

“The Æsir had the greatest of the slayers, battling the Vanir who inspirit fertility, wisdom and sight, and yet still fell in with the evils of Odin. Aurgelmir father of all Os for all Os came from Aurgelmir.” 

“And you play in the blood that was Aurgelmir?” Now this why Puck wasn’t encouraged to tell stories, even when he started to wax lyrical about things he had seen in the fade. “Play in the blood of your father,” what a wonderful image to put in the mind.

“Rivers of ice and droplets sweat was where it started, from the beginning to the end, the flow of water, flow of time, from here to Ragnarok,” sadness switching to glee in the space of a few words.

“Ragnarok?”

“The fate of the gods, the twilight of the gods.” She held her hand out to stroke Amunds face, “Kin of my kin, I would share with you the end of the gods who did injustice to us, if you would care to listen. Snurri had once told this tale of Vǫluspá sharing with the deceiver of kin his fate, and so will hear it anew.” He did a quick check at his ink, as Amund readily implored her.

“The betrayer sought out the Vǫluspá, who could as Korrigan can, as well as back, the dawn of time and the end. For the betrayer hungered for more, never satiated, from the moment he was dragged into the world, always clawing and craving for more and more, damning those who came before as only spoiled brats are want.

“The Vǫluspá forsooth the end, as others had before, recounting the creation as warning to the betrayer of what his actions would wrought. She did tell him plain,

Brothers may fight  
and fell each other,  
may sisters' sons  
kinship stain;  
hard is in the home,  
whoredom severe;  
axe-age, sword-age,  
shields cloven,  
wind-age, wolf-age,  
ere the world falls;  
no men will  
each other spare.

The sun darkens,  
earth in ocean sinks,  
from heaven trembles  
bright stars.  
The raging reek  
with age to linger  
plays load heat  
with heaven itself.

She told him of his end, at the hands of those who he had injured so greatly, of the evils that had come from his actions, and taught him of his end without avoidance. There were to be three winters of conflict, where brother fought brother and sons of Heimdallr, for in the realm all but those remain, did do unspeakable for reasons of none. This would be the beginning, the beginning of the end of those who betrayed and injured us,” her eyes were crackling with red, that otherworldly reminder that had long since been ignored now longer disregarded, but drawing attention to the otherness she hid so easily.

“For the betrayer the time has come, for already they have passed into Fimbulwinter, the strange and cold winter where the world that Odin did craft using our kin’s dead corpse, will go into endless winter for three long years. Bitter frosts, biting winds, deep snow where the sun that will fall to Skoll, soon after will fail to melt. The men that owe allegiance to the betrayers of kin, will fall further into depravity as they struggle against what they wrought. 

“After six years pass, of bitter and needed lessons as to the fallacy of Æsir and their ilk, the two noble wolves Skoll and Hati will catch their prey, Sol and Mani, swallowing them whole, and with them the stars will disappear returning the skies to the black void that was before. The great tree which does have the realms woven within its reach will tremble, the cursed earth will tremor and the mountains will fall to the ground. The world will shake and chains will break, freeing the dread wolf Fenrir who the betrayer did shackle.

“Jogmundr will rage, thrashing against it’s shackles, drowning that cursed earth, the waters freeing the dead ship Ngalfar, which is fashioned from the fingernails and toenails of all dead. At it’s helm is kin, Hrym, who will fearlessly transport the legions of our kin to the battleground of Vígríðr. And as the courageous Jotun sail forth, Fenrir will open his great jaws and touch both sky and earth, his eyes and nostrils flaring with the firey cleansing flames that will burn the taint from the world. Jogmundr will spit its poison across the oceans and sky, and both will make their way guarding the gallant warriors to the battlefield.

“And as they venture forth, the skies will open and from it will ride the sons of Muspell, who are as kin as Bergisar and Hrimpurs, flaming giants that will ride on valiant steeds will destroy the connection betwixt “heaven” and earth, cutting off the vile transport of the so called gods. And as the mighty leader Surt, leads his firey kin he will spread fire before and behind, a flashing sword that outshined even the sun itself. And so they will assemble at Vígríðr, and finally with the end nigh, Loki will shake free the binds of his traitor kin and join the righteous with the peoples of the Underworld, which is not to be confused with the Otherworld where the meek have hidden.

“And as the dauntless gather, the betrayer will cower and flail against his destiny, choosing to consult the Well of Mimir, and as he delays the great tree will shake once more spreading fear amongst the unworthy.” 

There was an eerie silence even the birds falling quiet, as the smell of brimstone filled the air, and scorch marks appeared around their feet. There was real vitriol in her voice as she spoke of “betrayer”, and her eyes. The only break in the unnatural silence came from Galahad who let out a soft curse, at being superheated by his charge- no he was still reading messages, he was starting to doubt their leaders sanity. How could he be so unaffected by the tale of utter annihilation, coming from Korrigan, Korrigan of the “sees the future”. No, he was more concerned with pointless paperwork that the others could no doubt have dealt with back in Haven.

“The warmongering Æsir will arm themselves for battle and will meet the challengers at the mighty battlefield of Vígríðr, which is very large, spanning three hundred miles in each direction as so many will attend. 

“The great Betrayer Odin will lead their evil, and will attack Fenrir once more with aid from his greatest champion Thor, for Odin is unable to act with honor. But Jogmundr will challenge the sons of Heimdallrs favorite Os, and whilst Thor will slay the mighty dragon, the poison will make him drop dead not more than nine paces from his duel, for Jogmundr will even with it’s dying breath uphold honor. 

“Frey -” she stopped suddenly, glancing at the sky which was as black as the void, the ever present stars missing, before they twinkled back into sight, the air filling with the scent of sweet smelling blooms, a cool soothing breeze refreshing their circle, the strange spell that had them caught up dispelling.

“Perhaps we should rest, and Korrigan can give you fodder for your next book another day,” it was almost pleasant to hear his disapproving tone, after the gleeful recounting of death and destruction.

The rest of the journey to Haven was one of forced lightness, with gentle banter that shied away from anything remotely violent. No more questions were asked to Korrigan, who had reverted to the childlike wonder with little more than a blink of an eye. The red though, had it always been so hot?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realised that I was massively behind in what had been written and (badly) edited, as opposed to what I'd actually posted. Like massively. So, I caught up a little, not to where I'm up to date, but now there is actually something to sink teeth into rather than just go wtf this makes little sense. 
> 
> I have three origin stories written, this one that Korrigan almost fully shared, the uncensored Korrigan version and one from the other side, the only version I'm missing is a truly unbiased version. 
> 
> I apologise for the defilement of Norse mythology, blame Korrigan.


	13. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas muses at the current state of the village, and Varric receives some unfortunate news that he is blessed by having loyal friends who truly understand and support him. Korrigan sleeps.

Korrigan was handed off to Solas as soon as they arrived in Haven, Cadash had begged off her duties until she had chance to bathe and sleep in a space not surrounded by well, she had been polite for Cadash, but the implication had been the smell of musk wasn’t to her choosing. It was something he appreciated about their tireless female companion, that and her ability to insult Master Tethras with the same ease as her ability to decapitate threats.

It was very reminiscent of the first few days, even the smell of the cabin as they entered brought back a smile. How he had gotten attached so quickly he could only imagine, and wasn’t he proud of the fact he didn’t immediately glance at the bewinged female hanging onto their Avvarian recruit with the clinginess of a moth to his wardrobe. 

The cabin had been kept nicely aired, but still the faint scent of elfroot clung to the fabric shielding the window, and he could smell the earthy sweat of Cullen from the door, masking his own comforting scent with the overwhelming attributes he showed in the field. He had proven to be a steady leader, an idealistic one, as they had followed increasingly inane requests that a more logical leader would have decided against. 

Knight Errant wasn’t a bad descriptor, he was a shining bastion of all the stories the humans told, if not how reality had often matched up from the versions he had witnessed in the fade. The King had been an experience too, so different from the bumbling fool the fade had shared of his travels through Ferelden with the so called Hero. He carried power as if born to it, and had easily accepted the bows without an ounce of discomfort. Another example of a noble King of old. 

How he felt about their latest recruit, he was unsure. The Skywatcher was as enamoured with Korrigan as the Knight, even after, well, perhaps the unspoken agreement to not mention that was a worthy one. It was off putting the zeal that the two men put in to their treatment of the winged creature, the lack of hesitation that even Varric showed if only minutely.

He was unsure of how she viewed them, were they objects to be toyed with, fools to be set up, pawns in a cosmic chess game. She looked at him with that look, the timeless one that spoke of deep unsettling emotions, that plucked at the very essence at his core. And then it would vanish. But the feel of his power as it had coursed through them, how she had shared it with him, the taste of his former self and he had been undone and she had not taken advantage, and he was again unbalanced.

It was relieving to see her growing sleepier as they had returned to the cooler climes of Haven, he wasn’t the only one who had noticed her creeping in power, each rift closing easier than the last, the last few hadn’t even spewed out demons. But there was something wrong with the way she closed them, something that he knew he had felt happen but had focused too hard on the feel of his power to tell what.

Perhaps he could convince his absent cabin mate that the Skywatcher would be better served in Haven, so she wouldn’t share the feeling again. It would be his again, he was sure of it. He needed to be sure of it. Even if the heavy power that had stopped him previously from leaving allowed him to leave now, he wouldn’t, not whilst she shared it with him. Some things were worth debasing himself for, and the feeling as it had coursed through his body just for those scant few moments, it had felt like he was whole. 

Their Knight was busy recounting in detail all of their actions, and it had been decided that Korrigan’s presence was unneeded, as Cullen had led them throughout the ordeal and not the small female. Also the redheaded Spymistress had looked rather pointedly at the Seeker as she had made the suggestion, the Seeker who on his being allowed to peruse the others dream accounts had repeatedly slaughtered the Harbinger. It was clear if only to him, that she wasn’t trusted with the small creatures safety even now.

It was worth noting, if not something that would be easily exploited, still useful. He doubted that given the choice between choosing between unknown Apostate and the Harbinger, even one who was clearly “Other” even she might falter in siding with him. His plans hadn’t been too altered for the time being, though it had been surprising the lack of elves in Haven, on his return. A few, but nowhere near the amount he had expected, instead it had filled rapidly in their absence with dwarves and humans, and of the dwarves a fair few had the same peculiar branding as their resident warrior. He had no doubt that of the unbranded, enough owed allegiance to the Deshyr of House Tethras. As power plays went, he would admit to only himself he was losing out currently, still he was playing the long game and even a couple of his own could quickly tip the balance if placed right.

But then. Then there was the human element, the human element that had clearly started to buy into the Harbinger mythos that was sweeping through like wildfire, and the shrines to Korrigan had gained traction. For something so small, and seemingly vulnerable, her roots had dug deep wherever they had gone. 

He had started to make notes, simple ones of singular markings, at first in common, and then in runic, and then he had tried to leave drawings, and each time it was as if grasping at smoke. His dreams were disturbed, and after the tale of Ragnarok, he found himself unable to leave that particular dream, instead he would find himself next to a mighty wolf, surrounded by all manner of beasts and giants that weren’t. They were always so clear, and the smells and sounds would linger long past waking. Names would resonate within his soul, but he had seen nothing of their like before, no giant that looked as these, no beast that matched. Achingly similar but worlds apart. And yet, he would wake and it would not be such a terrible feeling, not the glee that the narrator had shown, but not the sorrow he felt he should.

It was on the cards to head to Val Royeaux, even with the distaste their fearless leader had shown when he’d mentioned it on their final approach back to Haven. Whether they took Korrigan, was hotly debated, there was the risk that she would be seen as he saw her by the masses, whilst Cullen had been more concerned about kidnapping attempts. As if she would allow herself to be, she moved faster than they could track, and had the rogue tendency to disappear from sight at the drop of a hat. 

More than once when she was in care of someone other than her chosen Knight, she would vanish, sending mass panic in whomever had been trusted with her well being, having the unerring ability to reappear as soon as Cullen returned. If nothing else, it helped proved his theory that she was merely playing with them, Varric however seemed to attribute it to a more childlike nature. Cadash had kept her mouth closed in an unusual state considering who had offered the theory, she really was easily baited by their chest waving rogue. 

He had done well not to offer up an opinion on the Korrigan goes to Val Royeaux, avoiding answering the question when outright asked. He was unsure, too many variables, the risks seemed to be greater than the reward, though if they would even be granted an audience without the being that could close the rifts… Not helped by Korrigan’s own hesitation, she clearly was unenthusiastic with the Chantry, and had continued to refer to Mother Giselle as the Bad Woman, and had shied away from the Chantry iconology. Whether this had registered with their Knight was another matter, most likely not, as everything else that didn’t fit his world view, easily ignored. He’d even stopped with the “Maker’s Breath” that he had so often spouted in the first few days of her sleeping. 

There had been some shouting and stomping that they had managed to avoid however, up by the Chantry, another flare up between the two factions, with a rather red faced Cassandra being harrassed by all sides, with what looked like the creature Korrigan had referred to as The Friar, Roderick, dead centre. Still another job for Cullen, Knight Errant and fearless leader to go and solve. They were laying odds on when he would be crowned Inquisitor, he had been so aptly set up as the perfect hero of the piece, he couldn’t complain either, having been placed in prime position as co-parent and manwife, he had more influence than he could have planned for in such an event.

There had been talk of mixing up the group for their next long stretch away from Haven, after Val Royeaux, but he had been told outright that no matter how many more mages they gathered, Cullen trusted him, as he trusted Cadash, Varric was essential as Korrigan had stated, the We Three as she still referred to them as. Still it was inevitable they would collect more. Blackwall, Thom, Caradoc if the King released him back should he make it through whatever trial came next. Dorian had travelled with them with little issue beyond that of his mouth, but his skills were exemplary and he had obeyed without question. He’d also pointed out grooming, and had shamed Korrigan’s Caradoc into bathing which had been a relief. He had begun to think that the man had suffered from a lack of sense of smell.

It came as no surprise when Cullen returned to the Cabin, that Korrigan was fast asleep, she had barely opened her eyes over the last day, even with the shouting going on outside what seemed like their door. Cullen looked not much better, not that the man had done anything to ease the situation for himself. Cadash had the right of it, going straight for bathing and eating, instead of into battle against the three headed beast that had bombarded him with missives out in the field. 

Food had been provided, still gently bubbling as the lid was lifted up, flooding the room with a rich meaty aroma that managed to waken even his own stomach from it’s slumber, having taken advantage of the fresh breads and jams that had been waiting as they returned. It even managed to summon Varric, who like he had before appeared with an empty bowl, a hearty appetite and pages of papers. The feeling of home was something he was happily ignoring, but it was familiar and there was no rain dripping down through the canvas, no low level alarm whenever they all ate. Simple home comforts, the absence of which had made this taste so much more.

Cassandra had deposited the human off with little more than a grunt, aged years over the course of a few hours. Varric was good at this, the low level babble to distract and relax, grousing jovially over letters from fellow Merchants and his House. Saving the truly banal and outrageous for when there was another explosion of shouting outside their building, with the truly worn out man trying to stumble to his feet to interfere as he had so many times before.

_“Dear Deshyr Tethras, I hear you do not yet have a wife, and I am also single. I am a dwarf, and I can read. I have spoken to my father and he agrees that he can’t see a single reason why we should not be wed, and he sends a sovereign as dowry as you have so much from being the famed author of The Tale of the Champion - my father says it wasn’t that good but it helped lined the hen house so he approves. I will wait for a short time to allow you chance to receive this before travelling to Haven. My brother will be attending to make sure that you do not take advantage of me before we are wed. Nadia.”_

There was a brief silence as the dwarf read it back silently, palming the sovereign before chucking it to the table. 

“This was sent not long after we left Haven,” he prodded the coin, making it scrape against the wood.

“Do you need to go and see Josephine? Because she was heading to evening repast with some visiting nobles” He was fairly sure he hid the amusement more than Cullen did, a smirk was apparent on his scarred lips whilst their dwarf reread it again, this time out loud. 

“This is a joke, no one would really assume that - I mean, my editor is supposed to deal with these kinds of letters,” 

“It would appear that this is not from your esteemed writing career,”

“Leliana?”

“Why would Leliana deal with your marriage proposals?”

“Where is she?” he looked on the edge of panic as he started again from the top of the letter, before bolting out of the door, wedge of bread in mouth and letter in hand.

“There is a rather large number of dwarves in the area,” he couldn’t help but point out to the now relaxed looking warrior, who grinned back at him over his own hunk of broth soaked bread.

“The Lady in question has been spoken to, Leliana mentioned it during the meeting that there had been several parties attending to see Nadia and Varric wed, including a family member of Varric’s who has been sent to ensure that he does so. Cassandra looked very much like the cat with the cream, however Josephine has worked her magic as she rightly points out that if he was to marry at this stage he would be required to do his duty as a husband, than traipse round Thedas with an unmarried pretty dwarven woman like Cadash.” 

They both took a moment to chuckle, clinking mugs in a toast to his misfortune.

“Lady Josephine has managed to not only convince the Lady Nadia that she shouldn’t marry Varric now, but also that she shouldn’t wait until our work is done, and has wrangled support from her family and scored points with Orzammar as the lady in question has been sent to work as an ambassador for the Inquisition within Orzammar itself, giving her prestige and has already caught the eye of several noble houses. The only snag has been Varric’s family has expressed some upset as to how he is shirking his duties to the family after the business with his older brother.”

“And the brother?”

“Oh the brother has decided that as his sister has been giving such a grand opportunity and we have managed to get her into a much more favourable position, that he will throw his lot in with the Inquisition. He is bringing with him his families connections to fine crafts, namely glasswork, so our resident alchemists are happy.”

“Varric will be pleased I’m sure to have been so easily overthrown in the ladies affections.” they shared another grin.

“Ah, when he finishes reading through his letters he will discover another three letters of similar veins, all of whom have pledged allegiance. Laryn has been most useful to Josephine, she has a steady hand and is highly diplomatic, though not as pretty as Nadia by all accounts. Brinna has all but taken over running the quartermasters according to Leliana, they have some history together, having met during the Blight whilst acting as a Quartermaster for the dwarven troops. Neither lady had any intention of marrying our skald, but used it as an excuse to leave. The last however has caused the most amount of issues, and will be travelling with us to Val Royeaux, Lady Raella Dace, a Lady who definitely knows her own mind.”

“Oh?” he was hesitant to ask, though the lure of power and money would be a strong motivator for most if he had to guess.

“She has decided that Varric owes her for killing his brother. So has decided to make him pay by marrying him,” he started to choke, gasping for air as Cullen beat him on the back. “You had much the same reaction as I did when they told me, and then when she was introduced, and then again when she berated Cassandra. However she does have a lot of connections as our Ambassador has reminded me, and as such we should do our best to soothe any ruffled feathers. She does not believe in the message that Varric should be allowed to remain a wandering rogue, sowing his oats wherever he roams.” 

“So our merry band will now have an equal number of males and females, however will we cope?” 

“I believe Varric believed we did before with Bianca in hand, however as we will be travelling with a true Lady, we have been given leave to travel by more extravagant means. Also we are going via Highever, they are performing a vigil for the dead, and Leliana has asked for us to attend in her place. There will be a vessel waiting to take us up to Val Royeaux shortly after, paid for by Lady Dace.” He looked almost furtive as he mentioned their side trip, a faint disapproval that was quickly masked.

“Has it been decided on Korrigan’s attendance?”

“As the Chantry has declared us heretical, it has been decided that Korrigan should attend so that they may see she isn’t a threat to them, and as such the Inquisition isn’t. They have requested that I continue to act as ambassador whilst we are outside of Haven, as Josephine has declared that whilst they feared what could happen whilst we were unleashed upon the world, it has been most favorable. Whether they thought we would fling shit at walls is beyond me. We merely did what was right and just, in the name of the Harbinger and the Inquisition.” And there was that religious zeal he often got when talking about it.

“We certainly performed acts that could be considered trivial in some parlances. Such as when we escorted that Druffalo across a river,” 

“Korrigan looked very happy riding that thing, and it gathered us more aid from Master Dennet,” 

“You have acted beyond reproach, I was merely pointing out that you have lead us to doing things that many wouldn’t. Whilst I doubt they believed we would as you so charmingly put it, fling shit, they must have had some element of doubt, I am unknown to them, Varric lies with every breath he takes, Cadash is the epitome of a warrior, and a casteless one at that,”

“And I was easily lead by Meredith into allowing great injustices to happen,” an awkward pause as the tone shifted.

“As Varric has pointed out to you, you could easily have ended up as Samson had, or Alrik, if not worse. It matters that you did make a stand when the time came,” then “What’s done is now done, you have treated me with nothing but respect, even as we have had our differences. Korrigan calls you her shining Knight, and Cadash much prefers us to Varric so we must be doing something right.”

“Cadash is a shining example of a wonderful woman who, without a shadow of a doubt knows her mind. A true treasure, and causes far less hassle than our resident skald.”

“That she is, she also prefers the Skywatcher, and Caradoc, and almost everyone so perhaps we shouldn’t take too much solace in it.”

“Ah yes, it shall be interesting to see how she does with Lady Dace, they share very similar opinions on Varric,” They exchanged grins again.

“Anything other I should be aware of before Varric returns?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the manner of keeping no more than 3 chapters as a buffer, here is chapter 13.


	14. Val Royeaux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all going so well.

They had a quiet week, or relatively quiet week for most. The Skywatcher spent most of his time going through maps tracking the various shrines with both Cadash and Cullen whilst Korrigan slept, and learning more about the Hrimpurs and Berisgar. He had declined before he’d been asked about Val Royeaux, declined with a slightly scornful look before returning to mining Korrigan for more tales of their shared Kinship.

Varric had been very attentive, barely leaving the cabin, having had his belongings moved in whilst he hid from his new beau the strident and dashing Lady Dace, now that had Cadash in stitches every time she saw him, and she saw him often, so much so he had even offered to take over her duties so that she wouldn’t spend all day mocking him.

Solas had spent most of his time resting, in between furtive meetings with different elves, of whom had all but disappeared into the woodwork whenever he was sought out to address a concern that involved all of them.

And Korrigan had slept, and slept, she barely woke long enough to eat, and even recanting tales that she had been so gleeful to share on the trip, struggled to get her eyes open enough to acknowledge their presence. In all Cadash was having a wonderful time, the Lady Dace had been delightful, and happily played along with the tormenting. She was happy spending time harassing the three females in the Chantry with unrealistic demands, whilst appearing just enough to keep the talkative dwarf on edge.

With that, and Varric’s insistence of doing half of the work she had willingly signed up to do, it was truly down time, and with the numerous contacts who had appeared thanks to the dealing of the lyrium issue being promptly paid off. It had endeared her greatly to three advisors, a steady flow of Lyrium, black market goods and information. Cassandra was especially pleased with the way that Varric twitched, and as the Lady Dace was causing them issues, Cadash was the one reaping the benefits.

It was with a heavy heart though that they left Haven, Korrigan was bundled up with her Knight, Lady Dace had acquired a carriage that Varric was obliged to ride along in, and she had been most gracious and had chosen to ride alongside the others, Solas and Cullen both in fine form as they rode in silence whilst the sounds of Lady Dace berating Varric echoed out of the carriage. Silent but grinning. 

“How long until she’s active again do we think?” she gently nudged the sleeping form as it clinged to the highly polished chest plate.

“From our last journey, when we no longer see snow, then she should be active properly. If it wasn’t for Solas I would have had her in front of Adan all day long, but he has been a blessing. She is merely exhausted, I only fear that we are not destined to long fights in icy conditions, not until we can gather more support so that we may leave her with someone in safety.” 

“Even with my presence you still insisted on checking on her every time you moved anywhere near her. How she didn’t wake every time is a miracle in itself, even with you prising up her eyelids she just carried on snoring.”

“She makes huffing noises,” 

“They are little snores, we all know it, they aren’t the bellowing things that Varric enjoys punishing us with, they are as little as she is. But they are still snores,” it was almost adorable how he defended her honour without thinking, and that flush of colour when he was called out on it. He was far too pure to be anything but a Chantry boy, though the last time he had spouted Chantry rhetoric had been the last time they were in Haven, he had been surprisingly quiet on the whole thing this time round.

They fell into companionable silence, with the soundtrack of Varric and Lady Dace, just babbling above the noise of the carriage, for the remainder of the day, only pausing to rest for the night with Korrigan stirring only when they placed her next to running water. To which she then stayed, awake, wingless and quiet, basking in the moonlight whilst they rotated the watch throughout the night.

The following day saw the same, with Korrigan only being passed over when they were set upon by bandits, the human warrior choosing to tackle the bandits after a stray bolt had clipped his shoulder missing Korrigan’s head by inches, sending him into a towering rage. Varric didn’t even have time to escape the carriage to help, with the fury that he tore through the ragged band of men. 

After that she was placed inside the carriage, swapping Varric with herself, whilst Cullen rode point and Varric forced to the roof to keep watch. He hadn’t been any more grateful for this, complaining that it was far too high a perch with such a bouncing carriage, and if Lady Dace wanted to be a widow he’d have to make it down the aisle before dying, not before.

Another night, another shrine and a more awake Korrigan, who still was hiding her wings, though she had started to glow again, that steady glow she had acquired in the Mire, her appetite had returned in full force, though the shrines helped with that, the requisite fish appearing ready to be cooked and devoured. Even the fruits had come out in full force, bushes laden down with unctuous berries, dark deep reds that stained her hands and clothes, the white woollen shifts looking macabre by the time she had gorged herself fully. She often wondered how the small female didn’t roll the amount she ate, she could eat faster than all of them, the same quantity. It was almost impressive if not for the unnaturalness of it all.

Lady Dace was a wicked conversationalist however, and was able to share many exploits courtesy of her past with Varric’s elder brother. Things that had Varric banging on the roof. Her particular favourite had been what had been said about the two brothers in the polite circles of which she was a member of, “Lord Andvar Tethras had two sons: one who was good at everything and one who was good for nothing, according to their mother”. Oh she had cried with laughter at that, with the good Lady Dace offering her own opinion on as to which Varric had been.

“So, Bartrand was well thought of in the Merchants Guild?”

“Bartrand didn’t even notice when you stopped visiting him,” He was half hanging through the window, glaring at them both as she started to pump the good Lady for more information.

“We had an understanding, yes it had become quite difficult towards the end but we still had an agreement”

“He went mad, he tried to kill me, and then he tried to kill all of his staff, and he would have continued to try and kill everyone. Thanks to Bartrand, Red Lyrium is a problem all over. He was crazy, you would have ended up on the wrong side of a knife if you had followed through.” the two women looked at the upside down Dwarf who was starting to look a little green.

“Regardless of your dismissal of our relationship and my abilities to protect myself, you did kill my fiance and as such you will take his place. This time you will follow through and quickly, I have already had my honor tainted by the House Tethras once and as such you owe me a great deal. I intend to collect, I intend to collect in your blood sweat and tears, and if you fail to assuage this debt I will make it my life's mission to destroy you.” And that was why she so loved Lady Dace, that look of absolute fear on Varric’s face. It made her day, her week nay, her entire life.

After of course they’d had a frank discussion about the rumours about their own relationship, the scouts had been less than discrete with the reports and had happily spread rumours about relationships between the travelling group. Cullen and Solas were said to be in a grand romance, the Apostate and the Templar, she wasn’t sure if this had filtered through, perhaps to Solas who at least had the wherewithal not to make a deal of it. Cullen on the other hand had proven to be oblivious to all rumours regarding them, even the ones that were true. She had quite happily debunked the one about her and Varric, and had then spent a good hour listing his faults, which she admitted wasn’t a good indicator of lack of a relationship. 

Lady Dace had been quite positive however, she had her own affairs she was involved with, the driver was her lover, that was kept a secret from Varric however as it had been shared in the strictest of confidence after Cadash had revealed her own status. Not for any nefarious reason, merely to keep the balance of power clearly in Lady Dace’s own favour, whilst he squirmed on the end of the line like a particularly fat carp.

She did so like watching him squirm, and the tales of his brother had ceased the moment she had appeared, the first time he had started off Lady Dace had quickly cut him down, recounting a different tale about the younger Tethras at a Guild Meeting, that had him sulking for the remainder of the evening. Her new hero, Lady Dace. 

By the time they reached Highever, he had become almost hysterical every time she interrupted him, and Korrigan had proved little respite, with the small female being treated much like a child with the Lady Dace cooing over her, and helping to braid her hair. 

“Just think, soon we could be blessed with our own small Korrigan,” had been the first inkling that she was planning to turn him into a stud farm, or the first explicit reference to it which had Varric asking to stop at the nearest camp to send word through to the missing Hawke which he had still claimed back in Haven he had no knowledge of his whereabouts.

Cullen had been less than pleased, especially when he announced that it wasn’t to find Hawke but to locate Anders, which then had Korrigan out of the carriage and into the bushes distracting as best she could before her Galahad strangled the last remaining breaths from her Snurri. She was reasonably successful, though less when the idiot dwarf followed up on his threat and sent a message through. 

Solas had declined to aid him in using blood magic, or indeed any kind of magic to either persuade the good Lady or destroy his ability to procreate. And he had announced that he only trusted two mages with his manhood, so Anders was sent for. She could only guess that Anders would decline risking life and limb for such an inane request. Though she also had no doubt that Varric had risked more than he thought by admitting he was able to contact them. It would be seen whether the trio would remain strong with this perceived betrayal.

The Vigil though had been a welcome distraction, and their presence had been well received, with Teyrn Fergus Cousland welcoming them with open arms, and a missive from the King. Korrigan had merely smiled as she did, creating flower crowns and creating shrines in her own name, that soon garnered attention as it had in Redcliffe. How she managed to create such shining gems out of simple stones was something that she was unwilling to linger too long on, but it did the trick every time. The woven golden strands would merge in, the gems would shine, the flowers would smell sweet and the fish would leap out of the water with gay abandon. Even without the wings, she appeared a vision of golden splendor, the soft white of her shift, and the inner glow bewitching all those who she smiled upon, and oh did she smile.

The Teyrn bowed to her as the King had done, and she had curtseyed back, charming them with ease, the group had managed to strike a tone that had them leaving with more contacts and offers of aid than they came with, and without the sinking feeling that often came when people offered favours. 

Whatever the King had sent, had Cullen in a far better mood, and soon even he had forgotten about the Anders issue, Varric whilst not fully back in favour, was no longer assigned to every middle watch, for which he had born with little griping, or little real griping in the typical Varric form.

Still the mood was pleasant as they boarded the ship that would take them through to the Orleasian capital, with Korrigan in raptures as it bounced through the waves, the spray keeping her constantly soaked in a salty mist that dried like fine powder, leaving a trail as she walked that was easy to follow. In some ways it was a shame they couldn’t douse her in a fine powder all the time for when she would disappear on them. They had so far tracked her through the Captains room, through the crew quarters, and up into the crows nest. Cullen had been livid when someone had informed him, it raised questions as to how far she did roam when they lost track of her. But with a couple bats of her eyelashes, and a sweet smile and all was forgiven. It was scary how easily he forgave her at times, even when he was being irrational.

Their arrival at Val Royeaux had been a mixed blessing, between the two of them, Korrigan had been primped and preened, all evidence of salt removed from her being, and they had managed by some miracle to find a completely white shift, amongst all of her red stained clothing that Cadash was sure she deliberately dripped juices over. Cullen had wrangled the male members into order, more so Varric who had been hiding out with the crew, and had gone native.

They were greeted by a worried scout, and the Lady Dace took her leave to go directly to the accommodation she had arranged for them all in her attempt to control Varric after he had threatened them with the most perfect rooms. A look from Cullen had him shifty eyed, and his fiance glaring, she had the pleasure of visiting him whilst he was a younger rogue in Kirkwall and knew all too well the type of establishment he like to attend. 

Korrigan was kept firmly in hand, she was the epitome of innocence, her hair brushed to burnished gold, and her eyes were as amber as she had ever seen them. It would take more than a few good glances to work out that she wasn’t what she at first appeared to be. Even her gait had changed as they made their way in, no longer the fluid glide, but more like that of a small child attached to their much larger father. The image was further enhanced by the way Cadash found herself holding onto her other hand, it had taken Varric no more than a minute to start making jokes about what do you get when you cross a Curly with a Cadash, but she couldn’t lie, even she could see how the assumption could be drawn.

It was however the first time that Korrigan had actively sought out this type of image, for it was assuredly Korrigan who had arranged them like this. It didn’t take long to realise why she had affected the camouflage, the Chantry mothers were particularly vicious in their address even with the prize Chantry boy himself Cullen. Who in all honesty had reacted with outrage at the way they had spit threats at them, and she could have knocked him down with a feather when his former brothers and sisters stomped into the square. 

Even with her poor opinion of the Order she had never expected a Templar to suckerpunch an old woman, no matter how awful she sounded, and she had been particularly vile to them all, sparing no one from accusations and slurs. The noble Knight though had thrust Korrigan behind him into Solas’s arms, had his hand on his weapon, sunlight reflecting off his highly polished armour, blinding the Templars temporarily as he stepped forward. The Orlesian crowd seeming to enjoy the theatrical feel, even as the atmosphere stilled to that almost preternatural calm that she had last felt whilst dreaming. 

It was broken when the Lord Seeker dismissed them outright, not sparing a glance at the small female, nor acknowledging the calls from Cullen to explain himself. Instead marching all of the biddable Templars out of Val Royeaux to the now outraged residents who had gone from being entertained to incensed in the space of minutes. The tide of approval swinging clearly to the Inquisition with only a few small actions from their Knight who knelt gallantly in front of the downed Mother, offering aid. As Korrigan was cradled closely to Solas’s chest, looking every inch an innocent. Their Ambassador would be highly pleased with the outcome, if not with the news that the Templars would be difficult to sway to lend aid as the Seeker had expressly requested.

The flying arrow had done little to calm matters when it landed directly at his feet, and she had to hand it to their own rogue, who had immediately responded with his own bolt pinging against the rooftops, a figure screeching down at them before disappearing off down the otherside. The groan hadn’t helped when he had read it, and it took both her and Varric to explain exactly what the Red Jennies were, the obvious marker giving away the senders of the ill thought out message straight away.

“Robin will aid us greatly, my noble Galahad, and her exploits will spread across the lands, a rallying call to all those who need a Hood to slay their Sheriff.” Korrigan had added her two bits in, as he scowled at the message again, the treasure hunt not appealing to the straight forward Knight. Though to be honest it hadn’t appealed to any of them, and had it not been for Korrigan’s input she doubted any of them would have had the energy to follow the clues.

She had however, appeared with two of the clues before they had tracked down the one that was helpfully in a cafe, and by found, they had chosen the table with the red missive to eat at, rather than searched and left. It was a testament to how wearing Cullen had found the ordeal with the Templars as to his reaction when she appeared with the other two having managed to vanish without raising alarm. He merely pushed fruit at her, whilst he did an admirable job at eating whilst balancing the small cr-, the small Korrigan on his lap. 

There was a splitting of the group shortly after, the Knight needed to attend to more Ambassadorial duties, courtesy of Josephine, for which Korrigan was not needed for, and her nemesis had been muttering quietly over the amount of times he had been stopped by crazed fans, claiming he needed to head to several bookstores to check on his bankability before he sent scathing messages through to his publishers. Really the man was an idiot, why he had never thought to verify when by all accounts, and this almost grated to even think it, he sold well everywhere, why his books, especially those designed to make scarves flutter, wouldn’t do well in the dramatic capital of the world was beyond her.

But then, he also believed that he would be able to convince a mage to perform blood magic in front of a Templar, a former Templar, to persuade a woman not to marry him. A mage who so far had shown no signs of ever performing blood magic, and also his friend who was on the run from the Inquisition, the Chantry and the world, and a devout blood mage hater. The man was an utter idiot. There was no denying it, the good Lady Dace could do far better, but she had a solid plan of revenge and who was she to comment, she had spent most of her life doing things purely out of vengeance of one sort or another.

Cadash was being trusted to escort their most at risk members to the Lady in question, they had already had several close calls with ill mannered Orlesians, that Solas had paid no heed to, but had Cullen bristling with outrage as he was often want to do. He was very attached to protecting those who he felt were under his custody. Perhaps custody was the wrong word, but she doubted it was, just as she doubted that they were ever truly alone in the city. Too many flashes of familiar faces that seemed to blend in to the crowd to pop up again shortly after. 

Still, it was clear that their leader trusted in them, in her, he hadn’t given them a list of things to do as he had in the beginning. And Solas hadn’t batted an eyelash, when she had moved to walk by his side, her weapon idly swinging behind her, obviously close to hand as they forged a way through the crowds. It took little more than a few pointed glares and a snarl to keep the less observant from acting without thought. Human’s were so easily scared by Dwarves with big weapons and a snarl on their faces, even while they dismissed the danger of an elf who walked without cowering.

Because he didn’t, he showed little fear even here, and that did worry her. Worried her like Korrigan did when she let the mask slide. She wasn’t sure who she would lay odds on come the revolution. Come the revolution. Fuck. The Maker forsaken humans were not making her job any easier, it was like they were deliberately seeking out her elf to antagonise him, really, calling him a rabbit, and why was he pulling her back from breaking those Orleasian fingers. Oh Korrigan, that’ll be why. He was still holding her clutched to his chest, she couldn’t just start a brawl in the middle of the marketplace, that would not be on the approved list of actions from their fearless leader. Not in the slightest.

She admitted, purely to herself, that when Lady Dace greeted them at the apartment, it was like a great weight lifting from her shoulders. Too much, too quickly, difficult thoughts that teased the edge of great spirals of dangerous ideas. But the Lady Dace, she was the picture of a simple plan, a plan she was heartily behind. Punish Varric Tethras, for being an utter idiot, an utter idiot who lied more than he breathed. At some point she would have to think on why he annoyed her so much, but that made her veer closer to the danger. Come the revolution. Double fuck.

The apartment however was beautifully appointed, complete with rooms fit for nobility. In a respectable neighbourhood, that had mainly ignored them as they entered through the front entrance, greeted most warmly by their host, before being ushered through to their rooms, complete with drawn baths and what she had charmingly referred to as nibbles. It was everything that both Cullen and the good Lady had described the Hanged Man as not being. It oozed respectability and class, and she could feel herself standing straighter just walking in. Even if he did enjoy it, he would pretend not to, so they won either way. 

A quick nap, bath and nibbles had settled the discomfort. Korrigan had disappeared into the room that Cullen was to take, having made a nest in his clothes, seemingly sleeping although Solas had claimed she had been awake when he had checked up on her whereabouts. The servants however, had informed her that after pulling out all of his clothes she had closed her eyes and not stirred for a moment. 

She wasn’t sure if she was pleased that they had taken it upon themselves to keep watch, or that neither of them had been concerned at letting her be alone in a strange place. Solas had looked at her with faint disappointment at her question. Merely pointing out as he had often did, Korrigan was the member who was most likely to have the highest kill rate amongst them, and he hadn’t yet had to heal any of her wounds. Why they didn’t let her take watch at night alone sometimes baffled her, she was clearly awake, but perhaps it was more they didn’t trust her. Didn’t trust her not to pay attention as she played with the water. 

She had suffered more and more with headaches these last few days, few weeks. Solas had been a life saver, he could be counted on to soothe away the pain as it became too much. What she would do come the revolution. Triple fuck. Her head was splitting again.

The good Lady Dace, the good Lady Dace, the good Lady Dace. it was as if someone was trying to hammer a stake through her eye, was that blood? Who made that noise? So much noise, it echoed round her head, banging like a steel drum. What, what was Solas doing, why was he holding her knife? The noise, this was a respectable place, someone should shut that up, if they didn’t soon she’d do it herself, grab them by the tongue and yank like she had seen it done before. 

That was more blood, who was bleeding, she couldn’t see, she couldn’t see. Her head though, splitting open, she’d have to ask Solas to wave his fingers and headache begone. Where was Solas? Come the revolution. Where was her knife? Why was the room black, her mouth was feeling funny. 

Come the revolution.

Fuck fuck fuck

She couldn’t move, that noise, she needed to stop that noise, fuck that noise, fuck that sound.

Come the revolution.

What was touching her, had she been captured, was that why it was da-

Come the revolution.

Shitting fucking bollocksing hell.

Come the revol


	15. Cullen in Val Royeaux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cullen finds life as a diplomat somewhat trying.

He had spent a tiring afternoon chasing after merchants at the behest of the Ambassadress, whilst trying to ignore the events that had happened before. He was unsure how the Order had fallen so far from the gleaming example he had chased as a small child, even from his days back at Kinloch before it had all gone so terribly wrong. 

The first merchant who had approached him, or was it the other way round, he was still slightly muddled in the confusion from earlier events, Belle, had been a chore. She had pledged immediately, but had stirred up feelings he wasn’t able to process in the middle of this Orlesian capital. He hadn’t been expecting the reaction to be so unjust from the Chantry, he’d been concerned by Korrigan’s demeanour, and then had been blown off course by the Templars actions, striking the Mother down without a second glance, that was completely unfathomable. 

He didn’t disagree with Belle’s comments, they had been deplorable in their actions, without hesitation of a doubt, but there was still a small part of him that wanted to defend against the slurs, the part of him that still believed in what the Order was supposed to stand for, what perhaps he had seen little evidence of for years. And he wasn’t a Templar anymore, he had shaken the leash, it was easier than he had been led to believe, though everything seemed to be now he had his true purpose. 

He’d been forced to endure more Mercantile engagement, having been handed a list of potential allies, and had managed to come away with all but one happily signing up to aid, and the last holding out until they were able to agree to more investment, a delicate way of informing him that they were still too small to risk investing in. That hadn’t stung, it was difficult to imagine that anyone would want to risk reputations when there were still so many things against them. He knew though, that in time, no one would doubt the good work they were trying to do, that they were doing.

The good they had done in the Hinterlands had been proof of that, visible tangible proof. It had been honest and good, and not once had he felt the tug of shame that he had felt from so many times from his past, when things were done that had been… unpleasant at times. Korrigan gave him a noble purpose, one that he was honored to have been chosen to do so, one that could only lead to the betterment of the world around him, he had merely played at being a Knight before, now he truly felt he was one.

His afternoon hadn’t gotten any better when he had been approached by a courier presenting an invitation from the First Enchanter of Montsimmard, a cordial invitation no less, to attend a salon held at a Chateau. He wasn’t sure what he was more unsettled by, the fact that the invitation had been addressed to himself, rather than to the Inquisition, the fact that it had expressly stated that it was an adult only affair, or the courier had expressed it, or the fact he would be expected to bring along another, to keep the numbers correct.

It had been something he hadn’t missed, being out and away from civilised company, being dragged to formal occasions where such things as numbers mattered for seating arrangements. He had been half tempted to send back his acceptance with a message that his escort would be a male elf, but he couldn’t bring himself to be that petty. Though whomever he brought would be sure to raise eyebrows. If he took Cadash, it would be tittering about heights, or lyrium, or other such nonsense which was beneath her to be subjected to. Lady Dace would be more suited, but as she was engaged to another it would be unseemly to do so. Varric was beholden by the same constraints, and he didn’t trust the dwarf not to share tales of his days back in Kirkwall just to get him to blush. 

Short of a scout, Solas would be the best, even if it could be seen as the most petty option. Also, Solas he trusted when it came to matters of the arcane, even if he was an apostate, he had proven himself to be nothing less than exemplary in his behaviour, and as Korrigan’s joint care giver, a perfect solution to the order after all, and now all he would need to do would be to actually get the man to agree.

He had however, come across Varric on his way back from doing the merchant rounds, coming out of a strange looking merchants looking highly riled up, so much so that the dwarf had snapped at him, and it had taken a rather long drink at the cafe from earlier, before he calmed down enough to speak civilly.

“Never trust people who are the eldest in their family Curly, they screw you over faster than as look at you.” Almost as bitter as his stories about Hawke had been, not that he could truly fault him for that, the elder Hawke had been a challenge to deal with at the best of times, even if he had the luck of the Maker.

“Bastard has been screwing me over for years, for someone who never seems to sell well in Orlais, the booksellers can’t seem to keep my books in stock for the demand they have in even my crap ones, the ones I wrote as a favour to the beautiful Captain.” he downed another draught, waving for another, forgetting to give his best leer that he was so fond of giving around the females of any kind who were of an age.

“Ah,” 

“What’s worse, we’ll go back, and both of the harpies will just look at me with that smug look they get, the “I told you so” look, the “you are a complete idiot” look. I’m not sure I can deal with it, not on top of knowing that the people I hired to keep my finances in order whilst I’m off saving the Maker damn world, thanks to be dragged into it by the Seeker - remind me to thank her for that.” he pulled out his pipe and started banging it loudly on the table, “the people who I pay to keep my finances how they should be, are either screwing me over deliberately or they didn’t notice. Which is worse? Because they are family, distant, but above ground it’s all supposed to be one of the same. The same family that are so eager to have me married off to the first female who has all her teeth, and I’m here, with you, saving the world for a second time.”

“Yes, well”

“And then I have the wonderful Lady Dace, as blasted Cadash keeps calling her, pain in my blasted ass more like, following us around, like a bloody bad smell, and for what? Saving her from having to live with my cursed brother, who I am sure received written confirmation that she had broken off the engagement before he spiralled into the red lyrium madness, but wouldn’t you know, the same people who were supposed to be keeping people like the publishers in check, are the same people who can’t find the bit of paper that would prove she’s talking out of her refined ass.”

“Perhaps”

“It’s great, just shitting wonderful, having two of them in my ear, “Varric sit up straight,” “Varric, you need to curse less,” “Varric your brother was so much better than you” if he was so much better why didn’t you drag him down the blasted Chantry and make him commit to his duty like you’re making me do. But no, no, Bartrand was a paragon, and Varric is just a fuck up, and they will have further proof of my idiocy when I have to tell them about how I have let my affairs come to this.”

“Well”

“I bet Cadash is the elder child-” his ale had arrived, and Cullen was able to cut across whilst he went to take a drink.

“I think perhaps you are being slightly unfair on the ladies,” and the last thing he needed was Varric bringing up Cadash’s family in front of her, Leliana had made discreet enquiries, enough to learn that her family situation was a very touchy one. “Perhaps you are being unfair on yourself as well. As you say, you are currently helping to save the world, and whilst Kirkwall wasn’t quite the world for all it’s residents felt it to be, it was a very difficult time for all involved.”

“Ain’t that a shit of an understatement Curly,” they raised their mugs in a silent toast of solidarity, they haven't always been on the same side, but when it mattered, curses when it mattered there had been no sides, just what was right.

“We need to head back, before they send out a search party, you need to wish me luck, I have a Mage to trick into attending a social engagement as my escort for the evening,” 

“Well, if you are offering to let me watch it happen, then how can I refuse such an offer to head back to the two females who hold me in such high esteem.” 

It was a very subdued household that they returned back to, Cadash was in bed, having come down with a sickness, that Solas had assured him was merely a small bug no doubt brought on by the Orlesian food, but had left her slightly worse for wear. Korrigan was curled up next to her in a pile of what looked like his clothes, barely lifting her head up to greet him.

“Korrigan has refused to leave her side since we found Cadash after her bath, this is the first time Cadash has shown any real weakness, perhaps it has shaken Korrigan to realise that she is mortal after all. I will admit to feeling a little like that also, but Cadash has shown herself to be a strong warrior, and I doubt that even a bout of food poisoning that can cause her to bleed, will keep her down for long.” It was and wasn’t at both moments reassuring, bleeding from any place that wasn’t meant to bleed, not that he particularly wanted to dwell on that image, was something that they avoided at all costs, and Cadash was very capable at being the one to bleed others. But she was strong, and able, and Korrigan wasn’t mourning, she was merely concerned, she was very attached to the warrior, it was only right she would be concerned.

Still it didn’t make what he had to ask any easier, perhaps the Lady Dace would honor him by accepting the invitation, leave their talented mage to keep watch over their smallest females. Or perhaps he could send Varric in his stead, with the Lady Dace, surely having Varric Tethras and his future wife, would be a social coup that would wipe out any perceived insult in not attending personally? 

“Not a chance Curly, it would be admitting officially that I accept my fate, and not even for our shining leader, will I do that. So no, Chuckles says that she’s through the worst of it, and I’m not letting you give the harriden Inquisition approval by taking her, she can remain a dirty little secret until I can wiggle free.” So much for that then.

“You want to take me with you to go and see the Empresses tame Mage, one who proudly proclaims to be a Loyal Mage,” Solas had underlined that part on the gilted card with his finger, “You realise that whilst you are a former Templar, that we are not a kept Mage and Templar pair?” 

This was going slightly better than he’d expected, he hadn’t caught fire, which Varric had casually mentioned as a possible outcome.

“It’s just that, well, Varric won’t go with the Lady Raella,”

“So you thought, second choice would be to ask the apostate?”

“No, that’s not what I meant at all.”

“So you meant to take Cadash, I do think whilst you made a particularly interesting couple earlier,” so he had noticed that as well, he’d felt guilty enough about it, Maker they must have thought him an awful swine for having taken advantage of her like that, and walking in as if proud of it. “Ah, perhaps not, if that look of shame is any indication.”

“Solas, you were my first choice, and I will admit to it being made partly out of spite,” a knowing look, one that meant he didn’t have to share exactly how petty he had felt about it all, “but really, if they are insisting on having two of us, who better than you?”

“If the dwarf is in earshot, we’ll be the next couple in his serial with words like that,” 

“As if we aren’t already, as well as all other variations. Don’t think I didn’t hear him taking notes about the image in the square, and then no doubt the image of the restrained Elven Mage, attending to the extroverted Dwarven Warrior? Or the Knight and his King, the Knight and the Scout, the free Elven Mage and the Tevinter Magister” There was a squawk from the other room as the dwarf in question objected to the accusations.

“If you had asked when Cadash first presented with her symptoms, I would have suggested that perhaps it would be wise to miss the meeting altogether, she did for a moment look as if she was at the precipice of passing over. However, she proved relatively easy to heal, and has passed through the worst of it. If we do not linger too long, it would not be much of a risk to leave them, though perhaps you could reassure Korrigan with your presence before we leave.”

That he could do, and did, spending a good hour with her curled up in his lap, as she stared at Cadash whilst he told her tales of when his mother had been sick, and how scary he had found it, but that she had always gotten better. He hadn’t thought about his mother in years, but it seemed appropriate to do so now, today, that image of the three of them, a stark reminder of his own family, he’d not thought about any of them for such a while. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sent them a letter, perhaps it was after the Qunari incident, he was sure he had written to them about that, after Ser Thrask had advised him to do so when they’d finally taken count of the survivors. Perhaps he should again, write that is, although he could just get Varric to start sending them out volumes of his latest work, save him the ink.

When Solas reappeared, Korrigan was far calmer, and was happier to be placed back down in the nest of what had been his better clothing leaving him with what he was currently wearing, or what he had been travelling in, unwilling to disturb her comfort for the sake of being slightly fresher. Another small act of rebellion he was sure he would be punished for later on.

Solas however, was looking, well restrained as ever, having gone for the simple black robe approach, in direct contrast to his own still overtly, if a little too glorious, Inquisition armour that they had handed over with the instructions to wear it for the formal meeting with the Chantry. It would have to do for their host, even if it did make him look a lot like what he assured him he wouldn’t be, the Templar Cullen who had been retired due to… circumstances.

They were received with little fuss, when they finally arrived at the Duke’s Chateau, having had to take a small detour when Inquisition Scouts informed them of a small Chevalier holdup on their original route, nothing that they were sure they had to be worried about. Still it had been somewhat of a relief to reach their destination without harassment, not until they entered at least.

It had been intolerable, the gathered nobles weren’t able to make up their minds to swoon over them, or to insult them behind masks, as if they had a barrier of protection just because of a few feathers. Was everything they heard about the inquisition true? How was he supposed to know what had been spread, Solas however managed far better than he could, managing to charm with a few words that sounded positively insulting to his ears, and yet had them fawning over him like he was a prized pet, performing for treats. 

He even managed to remember the correct form of address for the abominable people, perhaps he could inform Josephine of their secret weapon, and send Solas out for all future engagements with the gentry. They talked idly about matters of war, as if it was merely a game that was played out for fun, he would be glad to get back to the duty of the honest work when this evening was finally over.

Still, not even Solas had been able to sway the Marquis from his accusations of warmongering, and his insults towards the two instigators of the Inquisition, for a moment, a brief moment when the accusation turned into a challenge of a duel, of which he had no concerns meeting. For a moment, when there was a swell of magic, that even without the lyrium he used to crave, he could still feel, that swell of magic and then encompassing the man so quickly his clothes crackled with the shifting of ice. A moment he had looked at his trusted companion, who hadn’t seemed to cast, before a subtle shake of the mages head, not his doing after all.

Then the grandstanding that left a sour taste in his mouth, such blatant shows of power for something so petty, this was why Mages were feared. Solas understood this, he didn’t waste his time on casting to solve issues from petty insults. The Marquis was of little threat, and did not deserve the response he was given. Though the look from Solas as he went to actually say this left him biting his tongue, even as he was offered the chance for her to kill the man for mere words. 

Still he was able to put on his best face, and follow Solas in leaving it up to her to resolve, all the better to see her true actions, better to test her mettle than show their hand. Maker he hated the politics of it all, and was the insulting necessary. The fact that she had used magic on him for mere words, in front of his peers who did little more than titter behind feathers and jewel encrusted fingers. But then to take the little dignity that he had so cruelly was unjust. Perhaps he was overreacting to the casual use of magic, for a Loyal Mage who believed in the Circle, she was very casual about the applications. He was just used to having Solas, the quiet still Solas, not this cold fury that pushed all over his senses. 

He could barely choke back a snort, when she took his words for flirtation, he was - no he wasn’t a Templar, there were no Circles, the rules no longer applied. Another check from Solas, this time prompting him to accept the kind offer of help, even as she insulted them all with that mocking tone.

“My dear, did you not want to bring the, what are they calling it, the Harbinger with you?” a cool hand brushed against his as it trembled, aching to reach for his sword, but he didn’t have the same power as he once had, she would best him before he could move.

“I was led to believe Madame, that the Harbinger would not be welcome at tonights gathering, and as such she was left with the Lady Raella Dace, the Deshyr of House Tethras, and Mistress Cadash,” 

“Ah, but my dear, I was led to believe that where the Harbinger went, as did the Knight, you were sold as very much a matched pair, though meeting such a… Mage as yourself Serrah… Solas, has been enlightening. It is a good thing that you will have my expertise, for a young organisation must take care not to set off down the wrong path.” How Solas managed to smile at such an insult he couldn’t comprehend, Cullen found himself struggling not to react, never mind find the strength to smile. But it wasn’t a nice smile, it was a toothy smile, perhaps after all he wasn’t the only one who struggled.

“Thank you for your kindness in this matter, please accept our apologies, it was implied that the Lady Korrigan would be unsuited due to the lateness of the affair, it was meant as no slight, hence why I brought the Inquisitions First Mage,” he was particularly proud of the way he’d managed to put import into the title, “So that you would understand how important we feel such an alliance would be,” perhaps he wasn’t as unsuited to this as he had first believed if the gleam in his companions eye was anything to go by.

“Sadly, the nature of our visit to the fairest city in all of Orlais means that we must depart quite soon, perhaps too soon for you to comfortably travel with us. A Mage of your stature will have much to sort before departing such… luxury. I admit, whilst the work the Inquisition does is of the highest import, the location may be a little rustic in comparison.”

“Solas, please be honest, I’m sure First Enchanter Vivienne will understand that the Inquisition must remain based at Haven, regardless of the aftermath from the explosion that tore the sky asunder, as that is where the Breach that we are working tirelessly to close is. Unfortunately Madame, Haven is rather struggling under the weight of the poor refugees that have flocked for aid, but I am sure with your experience within the Circle you will be able to offer guidance to the housing.” They all exchanged the false smiles that were so reminiscent of Kirkwall.

“Thank you both for your… kind regards, nonetheless, I will be pleased to travel with my own retinue, one last gasp of splendour before back to the banal as it were.” More false smiles before they were able to leave without incident.

“Better to keep your enemies close,” And if that wasn’t a worrying statement, especially coupled with the still rather toothy smile.

“You believe she will cause us trouble?”

“She referred to the Harbinger as it, that in itself surely raises a few questions?” the look he got from Solas was one tinged with pity.

“You….” he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish that train of thought, Solas had been clear that he didn’t fully support his own belief as to Korrigan’s purpose.

“I hesitate when she is treated as a child, but there is no doubt the Harbinger is female, or that is what she perpetuates her image to be. I merely believe that she is perhaps other to what we are aware of, but she is not an it. And I admit to having some attachment to her, if not a slight wariness to the amount that is still unknown.”

“But you believe that perhaps our newest recruit will not see the situation as thus?”

“I would be surprised if the inevitable meeting of the two goes well, who is to say that Korrigan’s subdued nature is purely down to Cadash’s health, Cadash who is healed for the most part and should be well enough to continue with us when we track down Korrigan’s Robin. Would it be so strange that perhaps it is the threat of Vivienne that causes her distress?” It made his head ache with the possible ramifications of such an idea.

“Then we shall not leave a situation to form where they are allowed to be alone together.”

“Perhaps a prudent decision, though you must also consider that we have now invited a conceivably hostile person into the heart of the Inquisition, and you should mull over the implications of leaving her with the Advisors whilst we are out of sight and perhaps mind.” The soothing mist of a heal as his threatened headache came in full force at those words.

“If we bring her with us, then I risk Korrigan’s safety, and if I leave her then we risk Korrigan’s safety. Perhaps we should turn round and respectfully decline?”

“Ah, to do so now would hand over more power than we would care to. It would be an admission of fear, and with careful handling she will be of little consequence. I did not mean to worry you unduly, you could also invite her to travel with us when we are next to depart from Haven, Korrigan has a staunch protector in Cadash, and we her We Three will not let any harm come to her whilst we still draw breath.” He didn’t really want to explain how Vivienne felt on his skin, but there was merit to his suggestion.

“How would careful handling go, if that would be something that we chose to follow? If we are not there, then surely she would have free reign?” He found himself relaxing at the approving smile from his friend.

“A discussion that we should have with our esteemed Skald and Warrior, as they both seem to have already laid the base for a possible form of defence. You of course noticed the number of dwarves in Haven from our last visit?” He had, but then he had also noticed more people in general, not just dwarves, Haven had become far bigger in the time they were away as it should be he supposed.

“You believe that they are there for more nefarious reasons than aiding the Inquisition?”

“I think perhaps that Varric has survived as long as he has in such a dangerous and precarious position as not only the head of an influential Merchant Family, but also as the seen right hand of the man who was at the centre of so much strife in Kirkwall, by having some form of protection. Protection that one would assume comes from having a network of information.” It was a well known fact that many of the urchins in Kirkwall all knew the dwarf by name, but then he hadn’t shied away from being seen either.

“But Cadash?”

“Our fearsome warrior, was Carta, she has managed to break free with a simple payment? Is it so strange to imagine that like our Skald, our Warrior is capable of using resources at her disposal to remain safe and protected? However, if I have noticed such a thing, would it not be possible that the esteemed Sister Leliana would also have?”

“But, then how would it work involving them, would it be through spying? On our own people no less, how would it even work.” There was a sour taste in his mouth at the thought, it reminded him strongly of the worst of Kirkwall, where there was nowhere safe to breathe that didn’t have ten people watching, recording and reporting.

“Not spying on the Inquisition, merely paying a close eye on possible threats whilst we are not there to intervene. Perchance even running interference? At the very least though, able to keep us abreast of the situation so we are not unprepared on our return. And whilst I am not discounting the ability of Varric’s possible people, nor Cadash’s maybe infiltrators, it would be wise to have other people involved. Do you not have some you would trust to act accordingly?” There was only one who he would trust with such a venture, but he wouldn’t be able to ask him to risk everything for a second time, no, all those who he knew might be suitable were already Leliana's.

“Ah, perhaps then I should shake the trees of my former contacts, elves of course, I’m sure there would be one at least who could act as Cadash does for Korrigan,” a maid couldn’t harm, and a maid would be able to see any changes of circumstance.

“Maybe we could talk with Leliana about our concerns?”

“Of course, it would be unwise to try and perform such an action without her knowledge, it isn’t like she can be easily swayed by the words of a Mage,” 

“Thank you Solas, I do truly trust in your judgment, you haven’t steered me wrong so far.” They lapsed into thoughtful silence, leaving him to chew over the dangerous thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author fights with the characters having plots without her approval. Varric is proving difficult, I keep trying to wrangle him back in, but he's a tricksy one.
> 
> Also - I do actually like Vivienne but in my "Korrigan Working Theory file" the note for the different recruits for Viv is "Vivenne joins up? Is that a genuine question? Korrigan isn't human, dwarf, elf or qunari."


	16. Cadash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cadash has not one but two baths.

Cadash woke with a splitting head, with a strangely heavy lump resting against her hip, pinning her underneath the layers of blankets she found herself in. As she tried to move she heard the dulcet tones of her favorite mage.

“Better to move slowly, the illness affected you greatly.” What illness? She remembered nothing much beyond the cafe and agreeing to escort the Mage back, fuck if her head didn’t start to pulsate with the stabbing. She must have let out a whimper, because the next thing she felt was his soothing magic on her forehead, dousing the stabbing flames.

“Apologies, I should have considered you would wake up with pain, if you believe you can keep it down I have brought a potion,” she wasn’t sure what he meant, until the idea of drinking anything had her stomach roiling, as she started gulping furiously so as not to throw up what little she had in her body.

The weight at her hip started to tremble, and there was a sudden dip on the cot as she felt a lithe body settle next to her, this time a cold hand pressing against her skin making her moan in relief, even as her skin prickled in embarrassment at the sound of their leader speaking to the Mage quietly.

“I thought you said she was better?” even in this state she could hear the accusation in his voice.

“She is better,” she tried to open her eyes to see if the dwarf had joined in to see her in such a pitiful state, but found her eyes heavy. “You reacted badly to the light, when we couldn’t keep the room completely dark, we placed protection on them so you wouldn’t suffer unduly. And you are better, you gave us quite the scare yesterday.” She could feel herself curl into his touch, lulled by his soft tones that Korrigan faintly shared.

“Cadash, will you allow one of us to bathe you? Korrigan showed distress when the servants tried, and more distress when we tried to remove her from your side to allow them to.” so the weight was Korrigan, she should have expected it really, for something so small she definitely had a weight about her, like a rock you pick up expecting it to be light and discover it’s iron instead. 

“We can get the Lady Dace, Korrigan didn’t object as much to her, although it still caused some distress,” his soft voice cut through the fug of her thoughts, she risked opening her mouth only to find it full of bile that had her choking, before being pulled into a cool embrace against metal, being held like Korrigan often was, with her commander telling her to spit it all out.

“Korrigan, we need you to go and get Cadash some water, some cool water, very cool water,” the Mage had his hand on her neck as she felt bile bubbling from her lips, her skin feeling slimy and itchy, even as it was pressed against metal, trying to recoil as the hands became firmer, holding her in place.

“Cadash, it’s alright, you are safe, Cullen we need to get her into the bath, her skin is boiling, Cadash, Varric isn’t here, it is just us and Korrigan, I need you to breathe, Cullen, gently now, good girl Korrigan, that’s very cold, no don’t get into the bath, Cullen can you take Korrigan for a moment,” she couldn’t help but start to cry as the water spread over her body, she could feel her skin sizzling, but as she tried to sink all the way beneath it her head was held up by a firm but gentle grip.

“We’re trying to bring your body back from burning, not trying to drown you,” she remembered the conversation they had about patience before, with her no longer believing his previous standpoint. “Korrigan, please - Cullen” she let out a weak snort as the Mage tried to barter with them. “Korrigan, Galahad needs breakfast, perhaps you could - Korrigan we don’t need fish in a bath, it’s not good for them” even with the warning, she shrieked as something large and slimy slithered against her leg, with the Mage letting out hissed curses.

“Korrigan, Puck is doing his best to help Cadash, the fish aren’t helping, I know you are only trying to help, can you unKorrigan the bath for him?” the parental Knight was back, the one who had the most effect on getting Korrigan to do something.

“Thank you Cullen, and thank you Korrigan, maybe you two could take the,” there was a pause as he spoke before it took on a strangled tone, “at least the fish lives in warmer waters,” she felt his hands scoop it up from by her feet making her squirm as his fingers brushed against her skin. “Perhaps the cook will appreciate the challenge. Cullen, can you get a fresh bath and cooler water sent in, not cold, a third hot to two thirds cool,”

She tried to lift herself out, her fingers scrabbling at the wood to gain purchase as she heard the door closed, abandoning the idea of not being naked in front of him.

“If you will allow me to help, it will be much easier to do this by hand than to risk knocking you with magic, as...nice as the thought was to provide you with a bath companion, I don’t think keeping you in fish water is the best.” she could almost hear him wrinkling his nose at the idea of sitting in the water, and to be honest whilst she wasn’t against bathing in rivers with the things, in her bath - no, she was not thinking about it. She’d heard stories of girls - no she really wasn’t thinking about it.

“Cadash, I’m going to touch you now, I will be as respectful as I can be, I’m going to reach under your arms, if you can when you feel me, you can try and lift yourself up as I pull you up, or we can wait for Cullen to return,” she shook her head, now that she had started to think about the fish water, she didn’t trust for there not to be other fish appearing even if she had unKorrigan’d it.

He always surprised her at how strong he actually was, as she could feel his muscles flexing and rippling as he hoisted her up, she tried to help, but it was too slippy, and her legs and arms just felt like seaweed, unable to hold her weight at all. She was grateful as he didn’t say a thing as she trembled in his grip as he manoeuvred her out of the wooden tub, wrapping her in a light bit of cloth. She felt him place her upright in a chair, before wiping a very cold cloth across her neck and face, ignoring her moans at the easing of the heat.

“I fear I need to apologise, I didn’t notice until it was too late your distress, I fear by not noticing soon enough I put you in a far worse position than you should have been in.” she could hear him wringing out water before the cloth was placed across the back of her neck whilst his cold hand fell on her warm cheeks. “It may have been something you ate, but the headaches you have been experiencing for a while now, as soon as you feel them occur, I will do my best to soothe them.” she whimpered as he took his hand away again.

His voice dropped to a low whisper, and she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be hearing him, “Cullen has also been suffering from headaches, and Varric has shown some discomfort though if its due to the flask he drinks from.” she could answer that, she knew exactly what was in the flask and it wasn’t anything stronger than elfroot, or not the few times she’d managed to check. 

“Cadash, can you tell me if your head is currently hurting?” she thought for a moment, not her head, not like that, she felt like she was burning, but the stabbing had gone. Her feet were starting to prickle, and she kicked them as best she could, enough to get his attention, his cold hands like ice against her heated flesh. “You are burning up, do not worry,” she trusted him with this, he could have just left her to be ill without interfering, but he was invested in this she could tell by his actions, he was a proud person, he’d treat it like a failure if she died now.

“Cullen, you need to get the water here now, you’ll need to go with the dwarf and Korrigan to collect Robin if it can’t wait until tomorrow.” He was urgent but not too panicky, even as he placed her feet in wet cloth, running a cold cloth up and down her legs whilst running a low level of comforting noises until she could hear the familiar clomping of their Leader return, and then the touch of a very small hand against her arm.

“Korrigan, Cadash needs to rest,” the sound of water being poured, and the smell of something familiar and light. “Korrigan, whatever you are doing don’t, Cadash needs to rest.” even through whatever it was on her eyes she could see a faint brightness start to swell. “Korrigan, Galahad will take you out of the room if you don’t behave.”

“Korrigan, come away from Cadash for a moment, we need to get her back into the water, and no enshrining this one. It needs to be just as your Puck needs it to be to make Cadash better,” there was a faint dimming, and the small hand removed itself before she heard the splashing continue, this time it sounded like water being mixed.

“Cullen, if you could help Cadash in again, so that I may control her head once more.” she didn’t have to wait more than a moment before she was scooped up once again, the metal offering respite from the heat, before she was gently placed into a much cooler pool, unable to hold back the whine as it felt like ice floating even as her face was held out.

There was a moment of complete silence as she felt something covering her, this time it felt slippy, and a very floral scent, and then a splash as she was joined in by - “Korrigan get out of the bath, do we need to take Cadash away for her to recover?”

“Korrigan I am very displeased with you, we explained the need to keep the water just as Solas has requested. You will get out of the tub now,” but she could tell it didn’t work as she was instead clung too, and small fingers started to pull away at the cloth on her eyes whilst the two men let out noises of exasperation and outrage.

“Noble Galahad, my Poor Puck, hush” Cadash bit her lip as the small creature who often played at being only a child suddenly had the tone of a mother, a quiet no nonsense tone in that peculiar lilt of hers, as the binding on her eyes was removed. “Cadash, this is no boon, open thine eyes and see,” 

There were reeds in the bath, large reeds, and small floating flowers, and a very wet Korrigan who was leaving nothing to the imagination in what looked like a shirt stolen from their leader. She waited for the stabbing pain from before, with the influx of light, but nothing came, and she could see the intense concern on Cullen’s face, and the hidden one on Solas’s. 

“Cadash, open thine lips and drink” she had the bath water cupped in her small hands and had it pressed against her lips, which she opened with some hesitation, not helped by the appalled look from the two men behind Korrigan. Still, she did as bid and sipped on the water, wincing at first at the odd taste, and then, it tasted sweet like honey, and berries, she could feel it coating her mouth in a sweet light taste, that had her ducking her lips back for more as Korrigan obliged. “Slowly now noble Cadash, drink your fill.”

It took another two cupped hands of water for her to feel refreshed, more alive, as Korrigan wriggled closer, this time her hands on Cadash’s cheeks. “Cadash, no boon do I give, nor favour, a kiss upon your brow and then I bathe you in the sacred waters, arise with the blessings of the Korrigan.” her lips were cool to the touch, but sizzled her skin, before she was pushed down into the waters and held for a year until she started to struggle, gasping in the sweet water, then hauled up by the deceptively strong creature.

“Cadash, stand and be strong.” Korrigan fluttered up out of the bath, and she followed standing easily, her skin chilled in the abnormally cool air as Solas darted forward to wrap her in a - that was a bed sheet, he was using bed sheets to dry her, his hands roaming over her skin, throwing glances at the suspiciously dry Korrigan who was perched on her Galahad's shoulder, her fingers tousling his hair as he watched silently.

“It would seem that Korrigan has cured Cadash of whatever it was,” Solas ran his hands over her again, and she started to squirm, her skin now sensitive between the cold, the damp and her heightened senses from the brush with drowning. 

“Solas, Cullen, would you mind,” she could feel herself pulling a face as Cullen span round, the danger now passed so that it was now immoral to see her in this state, but Solas shook his head.

“I will stay and make sure this isn’t a temporary cure,” though Korrigan seemed to be fairly serene as she pulled a piece of fruit from Cullen’s ear, no she was still confused from her illness, though she would lay odds on whatever had just happened to be a permanent cure. 

“When do we need to be heading out to catch up with Robin?” she chose to ignore the fact that Solas was touching her again as she started to fumble for clothes, feeling as if her whole body had been remade anew, the heat from her skin now gone and replaced by a glorious fizzing sensation in her insides, gently swatting away the roaming hands as they went to steady her.

“We will be going shortly, however you and Solas will be remaining here with Lady Dace,” Ah, the gallant Knight doubted as much as their Puck did.

“Robin will need to see noble Cadash,” Korrigan, however, trusted in the cure, even as her Galahad pinned her with a stern gaze.

“Robin will just have to make do with us, if Robin is so necessary then I do not doubt in our ability to convince them to join with or without Cadash,” he gave her a slightly apologetic look, she hadn’t taken it as a slur on her abilities.

“Robin will need Cadash, as Caradoc needed Arthur.” the sulky child had returned now the danger had passed, and the battle between small strange creature and tall noble warrior had begun anew, one that she knew Korrigan would win, reading the body language of their leader easily.

“Solas?” she had to hand it to him, he didn’t give in too easily, even as Korrigan was dripping fruit onto his breastplate in full respect of their battle of wills.

“Cadash?” ah the mage was passing this off onto her, though she doubted he would leave her alone that easily.

“I feel like I did when I was first promoted to my rank,” she gave them a grin before jumping up onto the fireplace in one leap. 

“As soon as you feel anything out of place, you need to let us know. You are coming only because Robin needs you according to little Korrigan,” she had to admire how he didn’t look at anyone but her, even as Korrigan was smearing more fruit onto her face, giving her a faintly demonic look with her red flashing eyes. 

“Yes Sir,” he had the grace to give her a smile, as she did her best Inquisition scout impression, hand across her chest. 

“Best go tell Varric it’s a full team going, might cheer him up, he was getting worried that he would be the only dwarf again.” 

“I heard that Curly, and it’s nice to see you finally got out of bed, I have a reputation to uphold and I can’t have you stealing it.” she rolled her eyes as the chesty writer stuck his head into the room.

“Nice to see you were concerned,” they exchanged lightening fast grins as she jumped down from the mantle, “I think it was whatever you made us eat, you really do have the worst taste in eating establishments, from now on we should just ask your lovely bride to be where to frequent” yeah he’d been worried, he didn’t even grimace.

“Right, well some of us need to get cleaned up…” the Knight looked down with some despair at the fruit covered breastplate, and Solas was still looking fairly damp, although he had started to make moves towards the door, now that she was busy springing off furniture.

“Varric, if you could look after Korrigan whilst I change, and then we shall depart so that we may not be late, as Korrigan was very anxious that we take Cadash with us.” the writer looked thrilled to be handed the dripping sticky female, who wriggled out of his grasp and threw herself into the bathwater before any of them had chance to stop her, Cullen choosing to walk out the door, she wasn’t sure if he believed it was now Varric’s problem, or after the earlier display of being able to dry herself he was choosing to not worry. She was never quite sure, she did, however, skim a finger through the water, bringing it up to her lips and licking it discreetly, whilst Korrigan watched with an odd expression. It tasted just as sweet, and she barely stopped herself from pressing her face in to drink directly.

“Noble Cadash, too much and you will suffer for it,” there was a longing to ignore the words of caution, Korrigan hadn’t stopped her, merely warned her, but that in itself was enough. Taking a step back, watching as Korrigan submerged herself, splashing like a water rat, ducking into the reeds and turning until the water splashed over the edges until she was clean, then as she had before fluttering up into the air, blurring and then dry, though this time she felt a fine mist of water against her skin.

There was a knock at the door, and a changing of dwarves as Varric scurried off as his bride to be entered, looking highly relieved, standing in front of the fire, hands clasped in front of her, ramrod straight.

“I am much relieved to see that you are not as that idiot Tethras believed, on your deathbed.” 

“Did he cry?” they exchanged knowing looks, as the man in question poked his head back through.

“No I did not, well not until she offered to replace you in the team, and then I broke down in abject misery.” she blew him a kiss, not managing to stop herself as he crowed, and she remembered exactly who she had just done it in front of.

“I apologise Lady Dace,” she hung her head.

“Whatever for, I saw nothing bar my idiot future husband lingering in a doorway like a common lout.” Varric went from crowing to frowning, throwing his hands up as he stepped back into the room. “At least now you aren’t in another womans room without a chaperone…” he started to splutter, “Not that I blame you of course dear, you were ill, and it is your room, however my idiot here knows better.” 

They were interrupted by Cullen appearing at the door, sighing as he saw the spluttering writer being harrassed by the two women, as Korrigan hovered innocently in the air.

“Varric, if you aren’t ready to go you are coming like that,” she wasn’t sure if the faint snickering came from her or Lady Dace, but no, now she looked closely it was Korrigan who was busy twirling idly, before scurrying over to her Knight, all was forgiven. And if Cadash accidently bashed into the scowling writer on her way out, he should have moved.

“Thank you for your concern, my Lady” Definitely worth it.

“You know Cadash, I am technically a Lord…” 

“You know Tethras you are technically a prisoner.”

“Now that’s not true, blatantly not true…”

“A fugitive perhaps, did Cassandra grant you clemency?” Another reason why she gladly followed the Knight, he could be relied on to back her in warrior solidarity.

“Curly, whatever happened to us being friends?”

“Snurri, we are almost late, late, late for a very important date,” Korrigan scolded, as the rest of them merely ignored him.


	17. Robin Hood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Sera, and isn't that a fun time for all.

Cadash was almost impressed with how quickly they traversed the streets to their destination, it would have been more impressive if Korrigan wasn’t dragging her Knight along, forcing them to all but run through the still busy streets, forcing her to listen to the writer complain about his short legs as if he was the only one who wasn’t Cullen’s height. 

“Noble Galahad, the Robin is tricksy like Puck, but not like Puck, the Puck and the Robin will snip and snap, biting at ears but they want the same. The Robin is sweet and simple, _to steal from the rich, give to the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood_ ” It was a song, the last of it was at least, though she liked the idea behind it, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. A worthy goal, and one that poor Puck agreed with even as he’d pulled a face at being described as tricksy. 

“Galahad, sweet Robin will need to see Cadash before Robin will allow us access to the Merry Wrens, Robin is fierce and loyal, and will see the true King flourish, never a Knight but always a defender, the buildings the forest, Robin will kill the pretend sheriff and you will accept.” At times it was difficult to understand the meanings behind the words, and others not so much, the Merry Wrens would be the Jennies, of that she was sure enough to offer up eating of a shoe if she was wrong. The outcome desired was clear, whoever Robin may well be and she was beginning to have theories on that being that Korrigan had been so insistent on Cadash coming, was to be accepted into the fold.

Three reasonably armed and prepared guards met them in a small courtyard, with Korrigan not waiting for them to react before slicing neat lines across their throats, her Knight making a faint tutting noise that she had heard from mothers in villages as their children had done something they were obliged to be disappointed by.

“Korrigan, you know Snurri will complain about not getting to use Bianca if you do that again,” She must have been really ill if he was continuing to torment Varric for this length of time, and how Varric was merely pretending to be upset by it.

A crowing Lord threw magic at them, claiming great importance as they exchanged confused looks, Korrigan staring off into a corner with a wide expectant open-mouthed smile, her wings were nowhere to be seen, but even without them, with how she was vibrating Cadash couldn’t be sure her feet were still on the floor.

“I’m afraid you have us at a disadvantage, though now you tried to kill us and have admitted to being at odds.” Cullen was very stern, even as he had a hand clamped down on Korrigan’s shoulder, she could see from here how his muscles flexed as he fought to keep her from running off.

“It’s Robin” Korrigan let out an excited hiss, spinning round to stare up at her Galahad, tugging on his hand.

“Surely Robin isn’t…” No the Lord who was looking a little peeved at being ignored now was most assuredly not Robin, the blonde mop of hair that had crept up into view however…

“Just say what” Puck and her would not get on in the slightest, she wasn’t sure how she’d get on with any of them in all honesty, even if she did have a soft spot for the girl.

“Sera… should have guessed…” The Robin they were there to meet looked torn between annoyed at having her scene being interrupted by a reunion and the lurid gleam she got whenever their paths crossed.

“What is the-” Cadash winced as the arrow shot straight through the Lord's throat, the false sheriff dead as predicted, she didn’t wonder why Korrigan had been so plain in her words.

“Squishy one, but you heard me right, Bubbles?” She would kill the dwarf if he ever mentioned that name, in her presence or not, she would track him down and rip out his entrails and then feed them to him, after she rubbed them through dirt. “Just say what, rich tits always try for more than they deserve. Blah blah blah, obey me, arrow in my face” 

“As ever Sera, you are kind and generous, also it was his throat, you missed.” Cadash held her ground as the blonde nightmare pulled the arrow out with a happy smirk.

“Yeah, throat, face, same difference, dead is dead. I see you managed to follow the notes alright, or did you have to get the jackboot to read them for you…” she finally stopped undressing Cadash with her eyes to examine the others, glancing over Korrigan in preference for their leader. “You’re very shiny, and you don’t even have the hand. She yours Bubbles? Did you and the jackboot knock boots and make a tiny Bubbles?”

“No, Korrigan isn’t mine, she isn’t well,” she wasn’t sure how to answer that, they weren’t entirely sure what Korrigan was, and Sera wasn’t keen on unknowns, she wasn’t keen on much beyond being a Jenny and women. “Also, when would I have had the chance to? In the last five years alone I’ve seen you at least twice a year, how do you think it works?”

“I just thought dwarf things, you know, you find a mate, goo on a stone, you sit on it and boom dwarf baby” she was going to kill the writer who was busy writing furiously behind her. “I thought that was why you had been turning me down Bubbles, you’d found yourself a big shiny lump of metal and made a little dwarfling.”

“Sera, there are many reasons why I turned you down, one of being you keep calling me Bubbles.” Korrigan made a faint noise as Cadash caught the sound of swords being drawn, and running feet.

“Bubbles! Cover, I was tipped their equipment shed, so now they have no britches” she couldn’t hold back the groan as Cullen fell into a defensive position, Varric taking higher ground and the Solas laying down ice traps in the location that the noise was coming from.

“Sera…”

“Bubbles, they have no britches” she almost felt sorry for the sods as they rounded the corner clutching at their groins into a deadly trap and then the meatgrinder that was the two warriors and two rogues, Korrigan hanging onto Solas’s hand whispering something that she couldn’t quite hear over the sound of the dying guards.

She had to hand it to the Knight, he didn’t question even as she could see him glancing at her, she had no doubt she would have to explain later how she knew Sera, but he was fair and wouldn’t do it here. 

“So, Inquisition, I want to join” the last of the bodies had hardly stopped twitching and Cullen was busy inspecting Cadash for injuries before calling Solas over to inspect fully, still not fully trusting the earlier quick fix.

“I would ask to get to know you first, but you come with references,” Sera mistakenly looked at Cadash, giving her a full-on leer, “so I will ask you a different question, why?”

“I’ve heard things, you lot are trying, while these lot are thumbing each others arseholes, you lot are out there trying to help, I want to help, it’s big yeah, there's a big frigging hole in the sky, so I want to help.”

“Sera, you must have heard rumours,” she gave the blonde mop-top a look, before tipping her head towards Korrigan.

“Heard things… Good things… bad things…” there was a distinct wariness in her stance now that she was forced to look at Korrigan.

“She’s different Sera,” there was no point not making her aware now, better to lance the boil before it blew up in their faces when Korrigan scared her with the unnaturalness.

“She’s tiny,” Cullen had stiffened, and Korrigan was doing her best innocence routine, as Varric seemingly felt the need to examine his weapon.

“She sang us a song about you,” she was cautious, she didn’t want to have to kill Sera, for all the letching, she was good people, she tried and kept a sense of humour that was hard to find outside of a certain set of people.

_“Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood with her band of men, feared by the rich, loved by the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood”_ Korrigan had released the Mage’s hand and had moved away, with her Knight gaining a familiar scowl, they would hear about this later.

_“She called the greatest archers to a tavern on the green, they vowed to help the people of the King, they handled all the trouble in the land, and still found plenty of time to sing,”_ she watched as Cullen closed his eyes, so this was the play. She would be needed for whatever Korrigan saw for Arthur, Alistair, and Cullen, Galahad would trust more to not immediately strike Sera down should she cock the bow she hadn’t let fall.

_“Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood with her band of men, feared by the rich, loved by the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood”_ Korrigan was swaying as if blown by a breeze, whilst Sera was watching her with the same intensity as a hungry snake.

_“She came to the Forest with a feather in her cap, a fighter never looking for a fight, her bow was always ready and she kept her arrows sharp, she used them to fight for what was right,”_ her breath caught in her throat as Korrigans wings unfurled, the moment of truth.

_“Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood with her band of men, feared by the rich, loved by the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood”_

“Never had anyone write me a song before, I don’t do creepy though, so no ideas right” the spell was broken, and Solas snorted as Korrigan bobbed into a respectful curtsey in front of the menace. 

“Noble Galahad, meet Robin, the Sera that never was,” Somehow she had managed to miss Korrigan dragging Cullen forward to stand in front of the infamous Red Jenny.

“Will you be travelling back with us? We have done all that we need to in the city, and will be travelling back first light.” and like that she had another part of her history travelling with them, Sera promising to meet them at the docks first thing, claiming no doubt rightly that she had little to arrange.

Cadash didn’t have to wait long either when they returned back to the lodgings for a tap at the door, and an invitation to join the Knight with Korrigan on his shoulder in the Parlour as the Lady Dace had described it.

“We met shortly after I made it to the surface, having been escorted to Denerim by a travelling merchant where I spent a couple of years learning how to be a proper surface dwarf. Which you will already know because Leliana asked pointed questions about the Glavonaks, who you can assure her again I only knew in passing. Sera happened to be there about the same time and was about the same age, we’d meet in passing, at first once or twice a month, just happened to be in the same part of the city, then more often.

“I lost touch when I hopped it to Kirkwall, contacts offering better jobs, then started seeing her again, a job would cross paths with one of hers, occasionally at odds, professional courtesy meaning that I would occasionally have to be too late to whatever it was I was supposed to be doing,” Korrigan gave her that very knowing look that reminded her again of the - her mouth felt sweet, and she started to swallow.

“It’s where I ran across our writer, even you, not that you would have seen us, as we lurked in the shadows watching with interest. Kirkwall was a very interesting place to be, and well, constant upheaval down below as Hawke tore apart organisations with little care. You almost felt sorry for Darktown you know, it got very dangerous down there with all the uncertainty.” 

“A job went sour, the Jennies had called in a favour with Hawke and that lot, Sera got word that it was going down, I got out, arranged to be with the leader's daughter as she went on a date, maybe convinced the lad to bring the date forward. I got to be the hero that had saved the heir to the group, but well, rumours you know. So transferred out of Kirkwall to up near Orzammar, because as well as we all know a surface dwarf would never find their way back in without getting permits.” 

“We bumped into each other again and again, not enough that I could say she was deliberately putting herself in my path, but I suspected that if she knew where I might and it was convenient then she’d make herself known.” 

“Bubbles?” she wasn’t sure why he asked that, as punishment for not telling him her suspicions? No, he wasn’t that unkind, curiosity more like.

“She accidentally knocked me into a vat of beer on a cross job, I came out covered in froth, she hasn’t stopped calling me it since.” It was not her finest hour, and she didn’t believe for a second that it had been an accident, the “Oh I thought I saw someone coming” excuse had been blatantly false as when she looked back on it, she’d been harassed over to the side avoiding the sly looks and prying fingers that made her squirm as only a childhood friend or a lover would know about.

“I would say he has bigger things on his mind, but I would advise you don’t show any weakness to the name if you don’t want it engraved on your stone.” she groaned at the thought, she had managed to avoid him calling her it all the way back, allowing Solas and Cullen to mother over her instead, with Varric having to look after Korrigan, his least favourite responsibility.

“She is good people though, rude, hilarious but inappropriate, devout though, likes things how she thinks the Maker wants them to be. Dangerous too, good to have in the team, and the Jennies are useful, they get everywhere, can hear anything,” that sparked something, something to mull about later.

“Do you have spies in Haven?” that was blunt, and she knew that she had given the game away by blinking at him.

“I don’t have spies - wait, there is a Carta presence at Haven, it was even invited in. It's just not all Carta look like Carta. Not spies, just a presence, this thing has everyone worried Cullen, and a human-led Chantry based new order that has the potential to grow, well, let's just say it’s not just the Carta who are concerned.

“Nothing that happens in your home is reported on, nothing here that is private is, it’s just that the Carta, Orzammar get a copy too, an unbiased one, that isn’t censored through the Inquisition. Varric does the same, the Merchants are just as interested, and Solas will have someone he keeps in touch with.” she watched him rock back on his heels, Korrigan petting his hair gently.

“Sera wasn’t wrong, it’s big, I would be surprised if every kicked stone isn’t noted down by five different people and sent to ten different organisations.”

“You must all think I am very naive,” the news had aged him, even as he was being prodded into a smile by Korrigan.

“I think perhaps Korrigan calls you Noble Galahad for a reason,” she was as diplomatic as she could be, if he had been anyone else she would have called him simple, but he did look like he truly believed that there was nothing going on below the surface within the Inquisition.

“Solas has mentioned that Vivienne will pose a threat, and that it would be best to have a more diverse range of eyes in Haven,” Korrigan looked amused by this, at least that was what she was taking the smirk to mean.

“I imagine either researchers or servants?” it wasn’t a difficult leap to make, he was either there for the Mages or for the Elves if not both, the look she was given at the servant part had her holding her hands up.

“It makes sense, they can be in and out of rooms and easily ignored, a dwarf in a similar situation is looked at, when it happens outside of the dwarven districts, an outlier, but an elf is virtually unseen, it’s why the Qun like to use them as well.” 

“Peace noble Galahad, poor Puck has no promise with the Saracens,” ah, that was that sudden jerk was for, no she believed as did Varric that whomever Solas was working with, it definitely wasn’t Chantry nor Qun based in its origins. Not that they had many talks about things, beyond the casual passing of information that one or other may find useful.

“Thank you for your honesty Cadash, you have given me much to think about.” she nodded at him, he had taken the information she had freely offered well, if not disheartened by the scale. 

“If it helps at all, you are doing an admirable job,” he gave her a wry smile, “We need someone with ideals to keep us on the straight, can you imagine if it was Varric, or even myself? If you don’t mind though, we will be up early and whilst I do feel fine, thank you little Korrigan, I doubt I will after a day spent with Varric and the good Lady in close quarters.” this time a true smile, with the blessing of a good night.


	18. To Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey back

Sera met them at the docks looking highly pleased with herself as she spotted Cadash, he almost felt sorry for the warrior, almost. He hadn’t forgotten entirely the previous jabs her and Curly had made at his expense, but then she had almost died. Varric expected them all to meet their end in a grizzly fashion of some sorts, it was the nature of the beast, but meeting it by eating bad food, no, that had been a shock to the system. A blade yes, poison yes, falling masonry sure why not, he had seen it happen, but a bad meal that hadn’t been designed to do so, on someone built like Cadash, no.

She’d looked fragile, for someone who appeared as large as Curly on the field, she’d been frail, as small as Korrigan, packed tightly in blankets to keep her from thrashing about and damaging her skin more so that it had been. Great scraping welts from where it could have only been her own fingers gouging away, they’d tried to hold her down but they’d just damaged her further until the only option had been to restrain with the heavy cloth, which then seemed to have almost killed her anew.

Cadash had even thanked him as they were leaving the lodgings, before pointing out Varric didn’t want to have to explain to her contacts how he’d managed to off her using only Orlesian cuisine. She seemed different though to him, since her bath, they’d had a hell of a time explaining how a bath seemed to turn into a pond, or they would have if it hadn’t been for Raella, who just waved it away, dismissing any further questions from the curious staff. Varric had to hand it to her, she had the imperious down to a fine art.

“So Bubbles, it seems your friend didn’t decide to turn tail and run to the hills after sleeping on it.” He enjoyed the glower she gave at the name, even if she didn’t try and run a dagger through him.

“Snurri, Robin never runs from a fight, she is the protector of the poor, she will fight for her King,” why was Korrigan turning on her disappointed look on him, and now Curly was giving him a look. 

“Sorry Sera,” sometimes it was easier to just get it out of the way before it lingered, and the tongue being waved in his direction had him chuckling, not a serious one for all of the importance of getting her own song sung to her by the Harbinger. He’d made a note of the song, recorded it for posterity after the hero of it had shown little interest in hearing it again.

They were ushered aboard a fine looking vessel that made his skin crawl the moment he saw the lace in the cabin he was provided with, Curly and Chuckles choosing to bunk together to allow the ladies their own private cabins, with both Cadash and Curly both pretending outright that Korrigan wasn’t going to spend all of her time scaring everyone to death with her antics again. She lived for water, why they believed any harm would come to her on it was beyond him, he was fairly sure he’d seen her skimming the waves like one of the big fish did on their way to Val Royeaux, he hadn’t, however, mentioned it to anyone else. Curly had been beside himself enough after she’d been found curled up in the crows nest with the ships cat.

It was little surprise when Korrigan was put in front of him, surrounded by off duty sailors, and told to entertain them after Curly had found him avoiding dining with his chief tormentors. If they put him in lace, he was going to rebel in some form or other.

“I would offer to crack open the cards, but no point in losing all your pay first night, so how about a story?” It was always interesting to see how intensely she looked at him when he became more of the skald for her. 

“Snurri, will you tell the tale of the grave of the titan?” Yeah, he had no idea which one she meant, but she was giving her full attention, which was both overwhelming and unsettling at the same time.

“How about the time we…” he was drawing a blank, he wanted to keep the tale about the high dragon for a big occasion where he would need to work his magic, not for an idles night entertainment. “The meeting of Fenris?” she perked up at this, eyes flashing the unnerving red. Perhaps not Fenris, maybe that would prove to be a big story. 

“Or perhaps Korrigan can tell a story from her home?” Where had Solas come from, but he wasn’t averse to the idea, and neither it seemed was she, considering how she hadn’t feigned tiredness.

“What would my Puck like to hear?” now he’d heard that tone before, the challenge that he’d heard so often from Hawke or Rivaini, the try me, I dare you to, that spelt disaster. He had his notes out already as Curly appeared next to his second's side.

“Perhaps one about Robin Hood?” their newest recruit had appeared, popping up next to where Cadash had been hiding in the back, though he would have guessed she’d be nearby, she never missed an opportunity to heckle.

“Is that what you desire to hear my noble Galahad?” he’d have laid odds the man would have crumbled beneath the look, but he was still bearing some grudge from the previous night.

“It is why I suggested it little Korrigan, there must be a tale for there to be a song.” She sniffed, sounding very much like Raella when caught in something she wasn’t keen on, before shimmering back into a more innocent pose.

“Then my noble Galahad, I shall share a tale of the Robin, who the rich did fear, and the poor did love.” he could feel the mood change, the faint rustle of what sounded like leaves on the wind, and the smell of the earthy hinterlands, the sky becoming that strange deep dark of her last tale as she settled on her Knights lap, hands primly folded in front of her as the sailors settled on the floor around her in a half-circle.

_““Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood with her band of men, feared by the rich, loved by the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood”_

__

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_“She called the greatest archers to a tavern on the green, they vowed to help the people of the King, they handled all the trouble in the land, and still found plenty of time to sing,”_

__

__

_“Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood with her band of men, feared by the rich, loved by the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood”_

__

__

_“She came to the Forest with a feather in her cap, a fighter never looking for a fight, her bow was always ready and she kept her arrows sharp, she used them to fight for what was right,”_

__

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_“Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen, Robin Hood, Robin Hood with her band of men, feared by the rich, loved by the poor, Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood”_

__

__

“Robin had been gone from her home for many years, off fighting the good fight in faraway lands spreading the good deeds of her noble King who had also left to complete an important quest of his own, leaving the lands in what he thought were noble hands. But it had been time for Robin to go home, the call for her lands calling her back as a lover calls for their lost love.

“She rode through the lands seeing injustices wherever she turned, and her heart turned cold, this was not how she had left it, her King was missing, and an evil master had invaded spreading discourse throughout, sending agents of misery to harass the good innocent people, the good nobles being chased out or taxed to the hilt until they were no longer a threat to the evil man's deeds.

“On finally reaching her home, she found it had been taken over by an evil man indeed, at the mercy of the Sheriff who stole every bit they had, beating the poor and unwell, killing those who had no use. Robin saw and burned inside with anger. She was but one person, and while her heart was true, she was unable to see how one person could take on such evil. So she retreated to the woods, to plan, to plot and to watch.

“She came across a cart going through the very woods where she did live, guarded by men in fiery red and blinding white, the colours that had chased her from her home into the darkest of woods, the cart digging into the soft dirt as if weighted down by a heavyweight.” there was the faint noise of snorting horses and the slow rumble of cartwheels masking the sound of the waves hitting the ships brow.

“She let loose one arrow, and then another and then a third, all of the men falling down dead before they had a chance to see the forest green-clad Robin, who jumped down from the cover of trees to leap onto the horses back, stilling it before it could bolt further on. When Robin did check the cart, she discovered great riches, coins upon coins heaped up in a pile, covered by finest clothes and tapestries, even small well-loved toys, so she did what any fine protector would and hid the cart deep in the woods, hidden away in a grove that had been lost to time.

“She did take the toys and some of the coin back to her home, and handed it over quietly, so the people who still lived there could eat, before returning back to the forest that would become her home. She knew then that her work had just begun, and that to save the good people she would need to become more than one person, she would need to become Robin Hood and her Merry Wrens.

“She had been scouting through the villages brushing the forest of her new home, for good people to join her cause, but it was only when she came across a bridge and was challenged by a giant of a man, with a beard as black as night and as bushy as a bear that she did find her first.

“Halt, you must pay the toll”

“And why should I pay the toll, when these lands belong to the King, you do not wear the clothes of his men” for the man did not, but nor did he wear the clothes of the red and white.

“I am Little John, and this bridge belongs to me, and so to cross you must pay a toll,” he had a large staff as thick as a ships mast that he did stamp next to his side.

“I am Robin Hood, this bridge belongs to no man, I will cross and you will let me,” she shouted back defiantly, as she was nimble on her feet and feared not the tall man.

“Then we shall fight,” Little John stamped his staff hard on the ground making it tremble.” If the boat rocked Varric was ignoring it, as he had the leaves that had scattered the wood around them. Korrigan was speaking purely to Sera at this point, and the elf was doing her best to not show how enthralled she was.

“Robin looked at the staff and then at her own bow, “I could kill you from here for I am a deadly archer, so I shall offer you mercy and fight with your weapon of choice.” 

“Little John waved his hand at the forest, challenging her to get her own staff to fight him with, and so she did, finding a staff of noble oak from the trunk of a lusty young sapling. She twirled it in her hands, finding her way until banging it on the ground as he had before. They did bow to each other before Robin did launch herself at the mighty man, hitting once, twice, thrice, at his chest, his groin and hand, but the mighty man did nought but laugh heartily at the whirling dervish of the forest-clad Robin.

“I must repay the cracks you have born upon my being young Robin,” and so Little John did just that, for each tap, Robin did give, Little John did repay, pulling the blows as one would for a child, as Robin was to Little John as I am to Puck. This did nought but enrage the Robin, for Robin was a true warrior of the lands, and needed no such coddling, and did crack her staff on Little Johns head, making his bones ring with the force. But as he had spake Little John did bring his staff down upon her head, blood pouring forth, as she crumpled to the ground afore his feet.

“Peace Robin Hood,” he offered his hand down for her to get back on her feet, but Robin was not done yet, and launched herself forth, only to be knocked into the stream below, landing on her bottom, her forest green now river brown, a frog upon her head, as Little John did roar in laughter, louder than any bear she did hear before. 

“She sat, her head rattled from the mighty blow, before he leant down, offering her his staff to haul her up, and as she did grasp instead of standing she pulled quickly, and he did topple in too, laughing louder than before as the frog did hop from her head to his.

“Faith Little John, a battle hard-won, instead of a toll, how about a chance to right the wrongs, and share in the rewards?” For Robin knew that any who could best her in a fight were truly worth, and she smiled when he did accept. And so Robin had her first Merry Wren, the merriest of them all, her Little John.” Varric was definitely not looking at the frog that had appeared on Sera’s head, even as Sera had started to cackle, with Cadash groaning in the background.

“So yer tellin me, Robin has lots of treasure and she has a gang?” Korrigan nodded at the blonde mop, who had the frog in her hands and was threatening to kiss it.

“Robin Hood was a hero to all who knew her or of her, and her legend lives on centuries past her demise.” Sera was busy making kissy faces at the slimy-looking thing until it lunged forward and then just disappeared causing her to blink.

“Alright, time for little Korrigans to be tucked up into bed,” 

“What about Sera’s, Sera’s need to be tucked up with Bubbles” Sera was successfully redirected from whatever her she had been going to say, by following Cadash back inside with Korrigan, the strange atmosphere clearing back to the normal night sky, with Solas looking musingly at where only a few leaves remained.

“Makes you wonder if we all have songs…” Varric couldn’t help himself, even as the faint sound of “I forbid you maidens all” being sung echoed back at them.

“I would ask more about how our stories end, Snurri…” 

“Ever wonder why everyone but Cadash has a name?” He was living dangerously, and the headache was somewhat worth it as Puck gave him a considering look.

“I wonder if that is still the case, she is… changed.” Wasn’t that the truth. And it was something that echoed for the rest of the voyage, no more tales being told instead just reliable gambling and intrigue as they discussed more openly at the dangers they faced.


	19. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very sleepy Cullen reports.

If someone had asked Cullen what he wanted to do as he had finally arrived back at Haven with the others, after the longer than necessary journey back. The journey back which had been made worse with the sniping, outright arguments and bad weather. Cullen would have without any hesitation informed them that what he truly would have preferred to do was sleep. He wanted to do the very thing his charge, the tiny Korrigan was doing from the moment they had reached the snowier climate, gone into a deep hibernation. He wanted to sleep, sleep until the headache that he had been nursing for days, for weeks was gone.

The headache he should have potentially mentioned to Solas, but as Solas had been one of the instigators of the most lingering of arguments... It was silly, it had been silly, he should have mentioned the headache, he should have mentioned how he could feel his eye twitching, how his head felt heavy, how his skin had started to prickle. Now it was too late. Now he had prior commitments, ones that would see him strung up if he missed to get the pain removed.

Perhaps after he had been raked over the coals? Perhaps after he had been verbally torn apart by Leliana for the promised in-depth debriefing after the long meeting already promised. Maybe then he would be allowed to sleep. With any luck, the Ambassador would have remembered to have something more substantial to eat at the meeting. The delicate finger food they had catered with last time he had the joy of being the victim of a grilling, hadn’t even touched the sides of his hunger. 

Cadash had taken control of Korrigan, nimbly unravelling the tiny fingers from his cloak, she was far better at that than he. He was always worried he might hurt her, hurt those delicate fingers that snagged onto him. Cullen was so much bigger than the small child who nestled into him. She was as delicate as the golden flower she had crafted for him, the one that he wore as a charm upon his amulet. 

“I’ll get the little Lady bedded down for the day,” Cadash was giving him a queer look, oh, he wasn’t letting go. He should let them go. He didn’t want to though. 

“Is there something you need to tell us?” Solas asked slowly, now also giving him a strange look.

“Ah, no, yes, they will be waiting for me.” Cullen shook his head, wincing as he immediately regretted the action, stepping back as Solas frowned.

“It would take only a moment if it is your head again.” If he knew how it worked he’d agree in a breath, but he didn’t have time to listen to the berating he’d be dealt for not owning up sooner.

“It is… it is nothing that can not wait.” Cullen couldn’t help his hand moving to rub at his neck. “I would appreciate if you could make sure little Korrigan is well,” then an afterthought, “And Cadash, I’m concerned that we may have missed something.” He could rely on Cadash to watch over Korrigan, but after her brush with what Solas had informed him as near death, he wasn’t taking any chances.

It was a successful attempt at redirection, as Cadash became the focus of attention. He wasn’t overly concerned, but she had changed, there was something different, something he couldn’t quite place. He’d seen it before though, that something that niggled, he just wasn’t quite sure where. 

There was a vibrancy about her, an alertness that hadn’t been there before. That wasn’t to say she hadn’t been aware though before, no she had been beyond reproach, but now it was if she no longer wavered. Perhaps when he had time to rest it would come to him, or mayhap Solas could solve the issue without his input.

He walked with them back to the cabin, the cabin that looked so inviting and warm. With its smoke furling through the chimney, the fire would be roaring, he could even taste the peat they’d used in the air. Varric would settle down at the table, crack open a bottle and Cadash would complain about how he’d moved in without asking. Solas would pretend to disapprove of the drink, whilst mixing it with honey. If Cullen just popped in with them, sat down at the table, just to see Korrigan getting settled, where would the harm be?

Maybe one small drink, in the warmth, no wind whistling through the tent to keep him from resting fully. The fresh bread, the freshly baked warm bread that would be in abundance waiting for them. If he was lucky, the freshly churned butter with a dab of the crushed salt on its surface, that the kitchens claimed was needed to keep it from spoiling. Nothing to do with his love of it, the confession on the marital bed to the buxom brunette who allowed his presence when she saw fit. He should really make sure to pay her a visit as soon as he was free. To show his appreciation by dropping off the gloves he’d bought because they had reminded him of her eyes. 

“Sir.” Cullen couldn’t help the closing of his eyes and the long intake of breath. Of course, as he wavered on stepping into the cabin he’d be stopped by a scout. By that scout. The anxious-looking one whose voice had broken in the space of the three letters.

“Sir?” Did the man really think Cullen hadn’t heard him? They were standing close enough that should he wish, Cullen could cut him down dead. Did he want to? He could rely on his three cabin mates to hide the body, back him up when Leliana accused him of the crime. No, well yes they would, of course they would. They were forged together now by something greater than Leliana’s wrath, if that was even such a thing. They were bonded by Korrigan. 

No, Cullen wouldn’t forget about the very important and very urgent meeting that kept him from his bed. From the glass of a smoky malt, fresh bread that didn’t bounce when he dropped it. No, he would stand up straight, and face his tormentors head-on with pride. Yes, that was what he would do. Or he could pretend he hadn’t heard the scout who was shifting on the spot in front of him. He could pretend he couldn’t see him, he could just enter the cabin. There was no way the scout could stop him.

Cassandra would though, as would Leliana, and no doubt the Ambassador. The scout, however, not a chance. He looked ready to pass out just from having to wait for him to respond to the calling.

Cullen would do as bid, didn’t he always? He would have no peace if the harridan wasn’t allowed to rake him over the coals half dead. Cassandra would give him the look whilst Leliana did it, the “I staked my reputation on you” look. The look that made him feel tiny, diminished, small. Varric would be proud of Cullen’s descriptions, he’d complained at how dull his vocabulary was.

Cassandra. Cassandra, who would explain over meetings that she knew how he felt. And yet, and yet it wasn’t Cassandra who was travelling great distances, filling in reports rather than sleeping. It wasn’t Cassandra who had to keep the peace when dealt the hands he had been dealt. 

No, Cullen was being unfair. Cassandra had to deal with the recruits that had driven him to distraction with their incompetence. Cassandra had to deal with the noise of the village, the constant hum of babbling nonsense. Had to deal with the merchants who charged above and beyond what decent folk would. Better, better to be out in the world with Korrigan than stuck here.

Out in the world, where his decision to stop taking the blue fluid that called to him, made sense. Out in the world where the colours were brighter, where the air was sweeter, where he didn’t have to watch his words.

“Sir?” By the Maker he was coming. Perhaps he could steal the scout from Leliana? Have him reassigned to somewhere far away, the Mire, that would be a fitting place for him. Alone, no one to bother but himself. Cullen had promised himself to never go back to the Mire, so the scout would never bother him again.

Would it be beneath him to make the scout cry? The scout looked close enough to it. Cullen should possibly stop practising his best glare at the man, or boy or child. He’d seen runners in the kitchens with more backbone than this, did he just whimper?

“CULLEN!” Cassandra bellowing interrupted Cullen’s silent discussion with himself as to scaring the scout further. The woman had no tact, no discretion, did she not trust whatever the lad's name was? Cullen should probably learn it before getting him reassigned. Though, on further reflection, Leliana would know exactly who he meant.

“Name.” Cullen asked, the scout flinching.

“CULLEN RUTHERFORD!” Cassandra bellowed again. The woman could see him, he was sure of it. 

Cullen just wanted his bed. The warmth of a good fire. His bones ached for the want of it all, and Cassandra was so Maker damned loud. He could do this, he could take a step forward towards her. He could step forward and not into the cabin. He could do this, just one step. One little step. He takes this one step, and then the next will be easier. 

The lies he told himself. To trick himself, to believe that he was really just taking the steps to go to the kitchen. Cullen almost believed he felt better already.

He could do this.

He couldn’t do this. 

One small step, one small action, that’s what the Mages had spoken of that had gotten them almost annulled back in Kirkwall. More tiny lies. More deception.

He would have to do this. So he did. His one tiny step, that had the scout scattering now Cullen was moving in the right direction. The tiny step that became another. He was finally doing it, and if he was thinking about the soft curves of a good woman rather than the thought of standing in the coldest room in all of Ferelden… The coldest room where the Ambassador would sniffle discreetly, and Leliana would wave her purple fingers at him menacingly. Well, only he needed to know that.

He wasn’t heading for the kitchens. He wasn’t, didn’t stop the heady scent of food baking from luring his senses though. A little peek into the kitchens wouldn’t hurt. If Cassandra had seen him then she would have been on his back by now. Just a tiny little look, to get something to take with him into the meeting. 

In fact, that was exactly what he needed to do. He would use his best smile, the one where he raised one eyebrow and crinkled his eyes. The one he’d spent hours practising in the shaving mirror back as a recruit still wet behind the ears. The one that meant he always got the ends of the loaf with an extra ration of butter.

He’d be lucky today. Lucky hopefully in many ways. He’d appear like a gallant hero in the kitchens, Rima would be working as she did. He’d dip her into a long kiss, and she would agree to an arrangement. 

But it was casual. It had to be casual. He couldn’t offer anything of any worth, a washed-up Templar with a limited shelf life. He was never here now. Cullen should offer to stop turning up, to let her be. His Rima. She would be better off without him, and it was unfair of him to be disappointed by that fact. They had never agreed on anything serious after all. And now, now he was never here, now he had a child.

Cullen would never admit to anyone, but the sight of Cassandra storming out of the Chantry… Well, it had him ducking into the kitchens he was hovering by to avoid the inevitable confrontation. He couldn’t be sure that the Seeker hadn’t spotted him, he was fairly certain she hadn’t.

Then, then he was here in the safety of the kitchen. Rima, the woman that warmed his, well. Cullen could feel his eyes crinkling, he knew he should stop using it as a technique. He was getting older now, but it was more than worth the lines he received if he got to see her, his Rima. 

Rima, not what the younger recruits would choose, but she had chosen Cullen. She had chosen Cullen, and he was more than grateful for her attentions. She was warm and generous. She laughed and it was rich, Cullen could drown in the sound. Her tongue, wicked in all the right ways and yet gentle too. Even as Cullen had embarrassed himself more than once she was gentle with him. Perhaps, maybe, possibly? Was it time to talk for them to talk about her meeting the others? Meeting Korrigan, his charge, his child.

“Now then.” Rima’s rich voice washing over him. 

“My lady.” Cullen stared in wonderment as she rolled her eyes at him, before sweeping her up into a warm embrace. He breathed deep, the smell of bread, of sweet meaty juices, of tart fruits. She smelt of home.

“Get on with you.” He was rewarded with a gentle swat before a blistering kiss that had his chest pounding.

The others working ignoring the display, the kitchens too busy to stop everything to gawk.

“Cullen Rutherford, are you deaf or merely daft?” Cassandra threw the door open, as Rima stepped away deftly.

“Sir, the basket you wanted?” His clever Rima, pressing a basket full of food, their fingers meeting in a promise. The half-smile that promised she would seek him out later. It was enough, enough to last him until he could rest.

Leliana would have noticed straight away. Cassandra was too blunt in her affections to have seen anything untoward. The brushing of lips as she leaned across him to reach something from a shelf. The way he had caught his breath as Rima had pressed against him. The basket was a masterstroke. It would do more than feed him, it would aid to hide his… discomfort. The discomfort that would disappear as soon as he was no longer in her presence and in the icy cold.

Cullen wished, wished he could have said the meeting was better than he feared it would be.

It would be a lie. He had lied to himself enough over the years.

It had been appalling. The room, the room they insisted on meeting in for reasons that were beyond him at this stage. The room had developed a strange smell, a damp, cold, slightly floral scent. It was as if someone had tried to cover the damp stench with a ladies scent, but instead, it had mingled into something else. Something, that in his opinion which he hadn’t shared after catching a faint scent of it on the Ambassador, was truly awful.

The room had been as cold as he remembered, if not colder. Why the fire hadn’t been lit was beyond him at this point. He felt warmer outside than in. The Ambassador had been shivering so much that he had offered his cloak. The same cloak that had been doing its best job to keep him alive. The stifled yawns were more easily masked with an innocent stretch that covered his face in fur for a moment. 

Cullen was fairly certain that Leliana and Josephine were aware of what he had been doing. Cassandra still seemed to be angry about the fact that he’d eaten his way through a whole warm meat pie. He’d have to thank Rima later for that. And if the moisture at the corner of his mouth was anything other than from the swig of warmed wine, he couldn’t tell.

Leliana would be able to. Cullen was convinced that she could tell exactly what he was thinking about at any moment. Leliana, with her obnoxiously purple fingers. Did the woman not think to wear gloves in here? Or was it a power play? If it was it worked on him at least.

Cassandra was no doubt keeping warm with the flames of her righteousness. She’d berated him for not calling a runner to collect the basket from the kitchens. Cullen had bitten his tongue, Cassandra was a true friend, she was. He just really needed to sleep. He wanted, needed to be somewhere that was warmer than outside. He wanted to be able to sit down.

Cullen wanted, needed, desired, craved to take his wretched shiny armour off. He would get a runner to dry it off once he’d been released, as he could see droplets forming on his chest. He could feel them dripping down his neck. Cullen would need a wash before crawling, hopefully that was, into a warm bed with his willing woman.

Cullen hadn’t been wrong either about the food. The Ambassador once again had catered for visiting ladies rather than a weary soldier. That didn’t mean he hadn’t polished off the little sandwiches quickly after Cassandra had sniffed at the idea of them. They had been almost edible, curled at the edges, and a little soggy. It would have been rude not to eat them after they were provided for his enjoyment.

Perhaps he could ask Cassandra to speak with the Ambassador? Or he could continue to bring his own food from now on. See if the famed Ambassador would pick up on the fact that he needed something more than that.

“The Templar’s did what?” Cassandra roared. 

“As I wrote in the message, and said just, the Templar’s were highly combative,” Cullen repeated for the third time.

“You are positive you did nothing to force the confrontation?” Leliana asked.

“We entered the square, were insulted by the Chantry. Lord Seeker Lucius walked out to shout some more. A Templar attacked a Mother. They left shortly after removing all Templar support for the city.” Cullen replied patiently, making sure not to change a single word that the harridan would jump on.

“Well clearly if I had been there.” Cassandra had made it perfectly clear that she believed that Cullen had been inadequate.

“Cassandra, I’m sure our Knight did his best. Although, perhaps we do send a more diplomatic figure next time.” The Ambassador killed him with faint praise.

Cullen was more than aware he had been out of his depth. He had been from the moment he’d been rocketed up the ranks back after the Tower. The few short years, no they had been long hellish years that had done little to aid that. 

They knew he was out of his depth, and yet they had still gifted him a child. They knew he was riddled with failings and shortcomings and yet they had sent him out into the wide world. Cullen had been sent out with little diplomatic training and yet. Yet he hadn’t done too poorly.

He had travelled to the Capital of the enemy, no, he was Inquisition first not Ferelden. They had sent him to Val Royeaux, and he had returned with two allies. Granted one of those allies was little more than a thief and a rogue. Varric could also be described as such, if not a prisoner and a liar if you asked Cassandra. 

“About Varric?” Cullen felt it best to attempt to solve that issue now.

“Is it pertinent to the mission?” Leliana blocked him.

“Perhaps?” Cullen tried.

“Then we will discuss Varric at a later date.” Leliana rode over him. He was pleased at least that the Ambassador had made a note of the Snurri’s name. If it could be cleared up before they left again it might stop any problems should things turn sour.

The meeting had dragged on for another hour. Cullen wasn’t quite sure how, bar the fact that he repeated the events three more times. His statement never changed. It was something he had learnt in the first meeting, never alter, never expand. Leliana didn’t want his opinion, she wanted evidence.

Leliana hadn’t let him disappear afterwards either, as he had hoped to do. He’d hoped, knowing that he had no real possibility of such a reprieve. He didn’t deserve such things, clearly shown once again by her lack of apology. The Ambassador had the grace to look faintly apologetic as he had been unable to capture the groan. Unable to capture or not even bothered to hide. It had been one of those days.

Instead, he had been dragged outside to the tent, to pour over the messages she had decided he hadn’t answered correctly. The exposed and open tent, with its desk that was the right height for Leliana, but not for his own height. Cullen would wonder why she insisted on working here, but he knew exactly why.

The tent was positioned such that Leliana was able to keep an eye on everyone of any importance. It also had her in a position that any threats that had managed to get past the guards and the scouts would then have to deal with her. Still, the piles of papers that liked to catch in the wind did little to instil confidence in privacy.

“Alistair has informed me that you handed over three assets?” Leliana was watching him with the dead eyes that burnt his soul.

“Rainier was a recruit who was on route to the Wardens, we merely hastened his arrival. The Tevinter Mages he had before we even met them.” Cullen replied blandly. 

“Well, he’s keeping them in Denerim. The Mages have proved most useful in foiling an assassination plot. You will be on the lookout for such assets whilst you are travelling.” Cullen wasn’t sure how he was supposed to achieve such an aim, but nodded anyway.

“Of course.” It was always best to answer verbally as well. 

“Did the Korrigan inform you of a plot?” Leliana asked with a difficult expression.

“No, Korrigan shared with us secrets of devices, however.” Cullen decided at that moment that he wouldn’t share Solas’ plan. Leliana didn’t trust them, it was clear she didn’t. Asking her to allow their own spies would do nothing to foster any trust.

It was petty, he was aware of it. If his back wasn’t aching from bending over the table so he didn’t flash the messages to the village. Well. The insinuation that he would allow paper to be caught by the wind had been a bit much too.

His back was all but grinding in his armour. His feet, however, had stopped throbbing. They had stopped throbbing in the meeting room, in fact he couldn’t feel them at all. Cullen was fairly sure he would pay for it later, if only when Solas berated him as he healed his many ailments. Thank the Maker for Solas.

If it hadn’t been for Rima walking past, and he wasn’t even sure if his woman had even seen him. He was far harder to spot without his cloak, his cloak still lost to the Ambassador. He would have to remember to get that back at some point, and probably cleaned if it smelt of those bloody awful flowers. 

He’d seen Rima though. Seen how her hips had swayed, the curve of her belly. So soft for him to rest his head upon as her strong fingers would entwine in his hair.

The only thing stopping him from following had been the death glare his tormentor was giving. That and the hopeful looks from the soldier he’d promised time to as they’d left the awful building. Was he allowed to call the Chantry building awful? It was, and he hadn’t been struck down. The soldier, better to focus on the soldier than his growing distance with the Maker.

The soldier who was currently waiting patiently, staring at him. Far enough away that not even Leliana could accuse the man of spying, though Cullen wouldn’t put it past her. Close enough that it would be a definite snub if Cullen just walked away to follow Rima. His woman. His wonderful warm, generous, wicked woman.

Bugger it all, he could. He could follow her now. He could just - no. He wouldn’t make it more than a step before Leliana had him on the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen it happen either. It was a judgement on him for interfering last time they were back at Haven. For stepping in and stopping her from outright killing a scout she had called a traitor. They had rules for a reason.

If Leliana had not been so, not been so open about what she was proposing? But she had, and Cullen, the spokesman for the Inquisition to the Common Folk, as Cassandra had described him so elegantly. He had to intervene as Leliana had spoken so openly, blatantly in front of the villagers. Outright calling for the scout to be cut down without being judged, as if it was normal.

Leliana had warned him, had allowed a Crow to get close enough to kill him. She had taken the Crow out with a single move, before Cullen had even had a chance to draw his weapon. The message was clear. Cullen might be covered in the finest looking metal they had access to, but Leliana still outclassed him.

“Now resources…” Leliana droned on. Cullen wasn’t sure why he had to be involved in that.

“Cassandra will have a far better idea.” Cullen attempted.

“Cassandra has many other responsibilities after picking up after you.” Leliana proving once again that she had the upper hand. Cullen would always be the washed-up Templar still lucky to be alive. Leliana would always be a Hero of the Blight. 

No matter where he felt he was. No matter how safe he felt in his place as Korrigan’s protector, he was nothing. He was less than nothing, and he would do well to remember his place. The message had been received and understood Spy Mistress.

He had finally convinced her of this, as she released him without forcing more inane tasks. Tasks that were far better suited to others, who knew far more than he did. He had one more thing to do. One last person to please before he could go and hopefully please the only person he wanted to.

If Cullen barely listened to the spiel, then the man, Cremisus which was the oddest name, was too polite to mention it.

“Storm Coast?” Cullen repeated as he caught a glance of Rima in the distance.

“Yes Sir, The Bulls Chargers are the best band this side of well, the two moons.” Cremisus had winked at Cullen, who had let out a snort of laughter.

A location, a merc band, something that if had he still been Commander… If they were as good as the man claimed, well Cullen would have bitten his arm off to have access to. Whether Cassandra would approve was an entirely different question. One that if she hadn’t walked past the man she could have answered for herself. Cullen could ask Leliana, but as that would involve talking to the woman again. Well, Cullen was holding out hope that he could sleep and relax before dancing with death again.

“Good man.” Cullen managed to utter that, slapping the soldier on the shoulder. A lot could be said with an approving shoulder slap, helped build up a rapport in the early stages. Where the man had gone from there well, Cullen wouldn’t have been able to tell Leliana. 

It would no doubt end up biting him later, but quite frankly he cared not. Even if she did use the clippers on him. Cullen could barely make a decision as to where to go to next at this point. He could see only two places, the rest of the world was dark to his eyes. The furling smoke of the cabin where his bed would be calling to him. Where Solas would heal his hurts, before keeping him up until he fell asleep mid-word talking. Or to where his lady Rima had gone.

**Cullen holding Korrigan**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a massive thanks to Yummychii who drew an awesome Cullen holding Korrigan


	20. One Simple Question

Cullen couldn’t deny he’d deserved the scolding so justly received as he stumbled back into the cabin the following morning. Stumbling hadn’t helped matters, but he felt punch drunk on well, Rima. 

He’d spent a most enjoyable night indeed with his Lady Rima. A firm bed, a soft pillow, those warm hands… The smell of good food and the sounds of contentment from his woman had done much to ease his aches. The warm stone she had so thoughtfully produced drawing the life back into his feet. It was the promise more than anything, the promise he made to return that made everything else easy.

Cullen had attempted to school his features, attempted to hide how content he was with his lot in life. It had made no difference as the knowing looks from Korrigan’s Snurri had his cheeks flushing with prideful shame.

“Cadash had to stop Chuckles from storming the Chantry after you didn’t return last night,” Snurri said. The sly look that screamed that he knew precisely what Cullen had been doing. Knew who he had been doing it with too, of that Cullen had no doubt. Rima’s affections, the night spent in a cocoon of affection dulling any negative response. Instead, a slow grin he couldn’t keep off his face that had Solas shaking his head.

“Sorry, if I had been able to think beyond sleep by the end of it all… Well.” Cullen coughed as Snurri arched a brow. “Yes well, I would have sent word I would be indisposed last night so you didn’t have to worry.”

Cullen hadn’t considered that Cadash was able to blush. Cadash, the Carta Cadash. Of had he? No, not in regard to his own actions? Mayhaps she believed as some did that Cullen was as chaste as a Chantry Sister. Or chaster, was that the right word, more chastened, now he had visions of Rima wearing a Chantry outfit… The stories of Leliana’s exploits had inspired many of the recruits after a recruit from Redcliffe had spread rumours.

Maybe he could ask Rima to get an outfit? Perhaps a quick visit to Redcliffe where the Chantry building was all but derelict. 

“In future, when you are immediately whisked away to meetings that are far too long, with potentially hostile forces -” Solas had stepped into Cullen’s eye line properly. “I would appreciate if you could send word that you are both alive and have all of your limbs.”

Cullen couldn’t help but look away. Solas had spoken with the same zeal as he had when they had argued about - his headache was back.

“Apologies. I should have considered our conversation before in regards to the situation. Leliana has made it clear that I have been found somewhat lacking in my actions. We will be allowed to continue, though with some guidance.” Cullen said.

The soft cooling tendrils of magic caressing the pain away from his temples. Cullen was unable to hold back a soft moan, which had Cadash blushing once more. It was awkward, he didn’t want to have the conversation with her. Solas might on his behalf? Solas was after all a true friend, and hadn’t he had Rylen do so before in similar situations. That or he could avoid the situation altogether and just introduce them all to Rima, that was a far better idea. Then he could see if he could persuade Varric to use some of his connections to get a…

“I hesitate to ask how long you have been suffering from the headache for. It is something we do need to discuss, all of us. You have all been suffering from them with increasing regularity.” Solas started. 

The look Solas gave left Cullen feeling more uneasy than the thought of having that conversation with Cadash. It would bode most poorly for his mood, he could tell from the intensity of the glare.

“Solas, could I trouble you to have a look at my feet? I fear my toes may drop off at any moment.” Cullen asked, grasping at a distraction. Of course his toes would be fine, they had been in the early hours after all. When Rima had taken it upon herself to check over him in detail, skipping no inch. 

He would need to stop thinking about her, his Rima, her hands. Solas was a true and good friend, but there were things that should be kept discrete. Even if Cullen was fairly sure he was hiding his current state from precisely no one in the cabin.

Cullen did admire how quickly Cadash had left the room. She had changed somehow since her illness. She seemed more, more something. It was something he couldn’t quite grasp. Although as he could feel himself unable to concentrate on anything other than avoiding Varric’s leers. Cullen had forgotten how marked Rima had left him, even with just his feet bare there was no hiding what he’d been up to now. It would be around the village before the pain in his side had time to draw breath, curse the dwarf.

“I can heal this, perhaps however, as it was inflicted by a lover we should ask permission?” Solas asked with a placid expression on his face. The dwarf was all but killing himself cackling in the corner like a hen. It had been enough to draw Cadash back into the room to admonish Varric. If anything would wake up the sleeping Korrigan, the sound of Varric dying would.

It brought a moment of unease to Cullen’s embarrassed and contented state. Why didn’t he want Korrigan to wake up? He would be able to introduce her to Rima, they could be a family. Yet, there was something holding him back. Something about the idea that had him feeling uneasy. The throbbing behind his eyes had returned.

“Exhaustion, some muscle cramping though from what I wouldn’t want to guess. I would surmise regardless of how you acquired it, standing in a cold damp room for hours wouldn’t have helped. Did you stretch at all before attending the meeting? Or did you go straight there?” Solas scolded. 

Cullen wasn’t entirely sure if avoiding Cassandra counted as stretching. Probably not going from the look on his face. 

“Cullen, for all the fearless leader you are out in the field. The Knight Errant that has scouts fleeing, the Noble Galahad for Korrigan. You need to learn to stand your ground when we are back in Haven.” Solas sighed.

“He does well enough Chuckles. To hear it told we have single-handedly saved the King of Ferelden, using our quick wits alone.” Varric laughed. 

How had Varric heard about that already? Wait. The contacts Varric had, of course, he would, they all would bar Solas. Cadash had the same, similar contacts of her own. It was only Solas and Cullen who knew nothing beyond what they were told in Haven.

“Solas? You should speak to your people.” Cullen needed to mention it now before it slipped from his mind. If there was any proof needed that they were all embroiled in the business, the lack of concern at his words would be enough. Cullen was never more aware of what an absolute naive fool he had become.

“And the other?” Solas asked. It left Cullen with a quandary as how exactly to reply.

“For now at least, I see no need to say a thing. After all, she will be aware as the highly trained Nightingale that she is. It will hardly be a surprise.” Cullen said. He wasn’t sure if the nod from Solas was an approving one or not. Cullen couldn’t help but grin regardless, the warmth of his mornings start playing havoc with his contrived stoic persona.

Korrigan had remained deep in slumber for the entirety of the week they were allowed to remain. Cullen had taken some objection to the allowance. They were allowed, as if they were recruits to be schooled. Allowed to remain in Haven for a much-deserved rest.

Still it had meant that whilst his charge, his little Korrigan slept as if dead, they were able to enjoy respite. Solas nor Cadash were concerned with the lack of wakefulness from the small child. Cullen wasn’t as convinced, it surely wasn’t natural to not stir one bit when being carried? To sleep and sleep without food nor water? 

In fact, if it hadn’t been for Varric regaling him with every moment from the cabin he would have thought she woke as he was away. That she woke whilst he was occupied elsewhere. So, as his two most stalwart of carers for his Korrigan were not concerned, he did his best to be in agreement.

The benefit, and it was a bountiful benefit indeed, was that he had free time. The time not spent in the Chantry with the three women, was spent in the kitchens. Varric had claimed he was growing round from the time spent there. Rima had assured him that it was not the case. Cullen believed that perhaps if it wasn’t for the nightly exertions it might well be the case. It wasn’t a complaint, he enjoyed the reward of good food and warm comforts freely given.

Rima had been successfully introduced that first night. She had brought their nightly communal meal as her shift had ended and had stayed. Cullen had been brave, although perhaps it wasn’t brave to embrace Rima? To have the woman who made him feel lighter perched on his lap whilst the five of them had eaten.

Rima was far less squirmy than Korrigan. He had ended the meal not covered in juices, not at the table at least. She hadn’t tried to kill him with honey, nor bash his face with impossibly strong wings. The conversation had flowed naturally, it was easy and pleasant.

A relief, as Rima had been heartily greeted by Varric. How Cadash had welcomed her without issue, and how Solas had spoken pleasantly. Cullen couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened with Korrigan there.

There was time for that.

Cadash had continued to give him the looks, even with Rima there. Yet, the looks also covered Solas too. Solas was, as far as Cullen was aware very single. If Cullen could convince Cadash that Solas was a better prospect? He was more than happy to show his open affection for Rima, for the good of the group. Rima had merely ruffled his hair when he had shared the thoughts.

“Daft thing.” Light mocking with a kiss.

“I respect Cadash.” Cullen defended himself.

“She had no more interest in you than Tethras does,” Rima said.

“But-” Cullen had attempted again.

“Cadash looks at Lady Dace with more heat…” Cullen wasn’t ashamed to say he had let the matter drop after that. Unlike Cassandra.

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford.” Cullen could feel himself curling up as Cassandra addressed him in the meeting. Why she chose to treat him like a naughty puppy was beyond him.

“Cassandra.” He had been half tempted to reel off her names, but after the third he forgot. That and Cassandra still knocked him down regularly as they sparred.

“It has come to my attention that you have yet again failed to end the… relationship.” He had Leliana to thank for Cassandra finding out.

“Cassandra, no one else has an issue with it.” Cullen tried.

“It is an abuse of power. You are the figurehead for our organisation. To take up with a subordinate just makes us look like predators.” It had been a variation of the argument used over the last few days.

“Cassandra, I have nothing to do with the running of Haven. Rima is employed by the Chantry not by the Inquisition. The Chantry who are not attached to the Inquisition.” He had Solas to thank for this. After the second time she had used the argument Solas had stepped in with counter-arguments for him to use.

Granted one of those had been that the three women seemed to be happy to treat Cullen as a subordinate. That however, was not an argument he used outside of his head.

“She works in the kitchens. She has no family in Haven. You are in a position of high rank. You must see it’s wrong?” 

“I love her.” 

“You are merely not thinking.” This had cut, Cullen did nothing but think. He was relying on the Inquisition. He had relied on them. Perhaps though now not as much as he had in the beginning.

In the beginning it had been easy, and now? Now truth be told if he was asked to chose? Between Korrigan and Cassandra, or Solas and Leliana? Well those were dangerous thoughts indeed. The same thoughts that would bring about the familiar throbbing. The same thoughts if Leliana suspected might end up with his head on a pike.

If nothing else it had been this realisation that had sent Cullen to go speak with his lady love. He had had to use the techniques from Solas to calm down, repeating the stars, the months before being able to think. To be able to seek her counsel. Was he abusing his position? Was he inappropriate? Did she return the feelings?

In the end, it came down to one simple question. 

One very simple yet important question.


	21. Korrigan and the Giant

It had been a reasonably fast sojourn to the Storm Coast, with their Noble Knight keeping them under control the entire time. Cullen had even managed to stop Korrigan from picking every flower they had passed. Albeit that had been a reasonably close call around the areas near her shrines.

Solas had attempted and attempted to speak to the smaller group in regards to the continuing headaches. He had failed at every reasonable opportunity, it was not something he enjoyed failing. It hadn’t helped that as well as failing to pin down his companions, the shadowy presence of The Madame lingered. 

The Madame and her invitation to join them meeting up with the Mercenary group had been agonised over. Even down to arguments in front of the Knight’s future wife. Did they bring the Madame? Or did she remain in Haven? Neither option appealing, it had been something Solas and Cullen had spoken about even back in Val Royeaux. There was no optimal outcome.

Instead, it had been Rima, the future Mrs Rutherford who had broken the stalemate. The Madame had sided with Cassandra in her disdain over the relationship between the Cook and the Knight. Even going as far as to be offended by the match. Solas quietly could see their issue if he didn’t agree with the sentiment. It had, however, meant that they were stuck with the Madame. The Knight had argued that instead, they should take Rima with them, it had been Varric who had quashed that. 

Solas didn’t deny Rima was pleasant if a little unpolished. Openly he had stood behind Varric’s argument that if anything taking Rima would upset the hens. Privately he felt as Cadash did, that Korrigan should be delayed at meeting the woman for as long as possible. 

That said, Rima did make a light loaf. 

Sera in many ways had become a welcome barrier between the Madame and Korrigan. Something Solas would have never believed having had the pleasure of several conversations with the elf. But Sera had clearly picked her side, how much of that was down to Cadash who only knew? 

“Bubbles?” Sera asked, meaning that the Madame was close by.

“Cadash.” Solas could hear the weary sigh from Cadash across the clearing.

“Buuuuubbbles?” 

“It’s Cadash.”

“Buuuuuuuuuuuubbbbbbbbbbbbbbbllllllleeeeeeesssssss?” Solas had to give Sera credit, she didn’t let things go. Even when threatened with an axe.

“What Sera?” That and Cadash always gave in too soon. He had offered her advice in dealing with the deranged mop. Cadash had merely dismissed his advice to continue to ignore her.

“Bubbles, you know Korrigan calls me Robin?” Solas made the decision to check on the stew, now curious as to what the point of this latest Sera gambit would be.

“Yes?”

“Well, I have a story.” The stew was bubbling nicely, fish again. It was always fish whilst Korrigan was awake.

“The point Sera?” Cadash had stopped rubbing down her axe.

“Well, do you think Madame Iron Pants has one?” Solas couldn’t help the smirk as the Madame made a hissing noise.

“Sera, do you need to?” Solas didn’t know why Cadash was asking. Sera enjoyed prodding the Madame.

“Viv!” Sera had changed direction and was now calling the Madame. 

“No.” Solas knew that that was the incorrect response to Sera. He hadn’t offered the Madame any advice.

“Viiiiv, Vivvvvy?” Solas was curious to see if the handful of mud in her hands would actually hit the Madame.

“Sera leave her alone.” Cadash did her best to wrangle the young elf. Solas, however, was more interested in watching the free entertainment.

“I just have something to show her.” Sera had gathered a second handful of mud.

“It will be your bottom again, it is always your bottom.” The Madame replied. She also wasn’t entirely wrong, it often was Sera’s bottom. He had seen more of it than he would have liked.

“Vvvvvivvvvvvvvvvvvvvvy!” Sera tried once more, waiting precisely long enough for the Madame to turn. The two handfuls of mud-splattered against the shield. Solas had been half tempted to aid the elf. It would appear that as Sera had chosen Korrigan, he had chosen Sera.

“Oh very mature.” It had done its job. The Madame had left.

The Madame had done very little to endear herself to the group. She spent her time lecturing them all on form, manners and status. He wasn’t against such things in general. It was more a matter of knowing the audience, and the timing. 

The audience that involved a former Templar Captain who had been drilled repeatedly in manners by not only his Templars but also by the Inquisition. Master Tethras who was a Lord in his own right. Lady Dace, who put the Madame to shame at times. Sera would never listen to the Madame, and Cadash was very much a Lady Dace follower than that of the Madame.

On the timing issue, it would be more appropriate not to involve lectures whilst they rode battling bandits, flies and the ever-present bears. It was something they had all wondered, why it was always bears? The sheer rate of which they appeared well, it was unnatural. 

The bears seemed to breed faster than the nugs they preyed on. If there was a rustle in the undergrowth? Well, it was now a relief to see a form of a person rather than the bulk of another fully grown bear intent on ripping them all to shreds. Of course with one bear, there would always be that other far bigger bear fast on its tail. 

“Do you think they need to go to the bathroom together?” Sera had asked. Cadash and Lady Dace had laughed. Solas wasn’t sure what the joke had been, Varric had tried to explain but it still made little sense.

Sera had taken to directing all of the ire and scorn she had heaped on him on the boat, onto the Madame. It was something that Solas would admit to being highly grateful for. It wasn’t that Solas found the child particularly upsetting. No, it had been the sad looks that Korrigan had given her Knight each time that Solas had bitten back at Sera. The sad looks that would then be passed on to him. It had been highly frustrating in the way that the Knight had attempted to prick at his better nature.

As it stood, Solas was now able to enjoy Sera’s charms more now they were no longer pointed in his direction. Much better now they were focused on another rather than himself. Even he had been unable to hide a smile after the sixth time Sera had managed to get the Madame to look at her naked rear. It was juvenile, it was far beneath him. It was also amusing to see the Madame shake her head in mock despair.

In many ways having the Madame with them had united the group. The Lady Dace had parted ways as they reached the last small hamlet before the Storm Coast. Solas had spoken to the Knight about the two remaining dwarves. It had been unnecessary, the bickering of before that had been so prevalent a thing of the past. A very welcome thing of the past. Not even Varric occasionally calling Cadash by Sera’s nickname enough to break the ceasefire.

The Madame proved if nothing else, useful for this. Her style of fighting had left the Knight less than pleased to share space with her. It was already reasonably cramped in close combat with the Knight, Cadash and the tiny rogue Korrigan. He had repeatedly asked if she would stay at range. 

“I am a Knight Enchanter.” The Madame.

“I am a Knight Errant, Cadash is a well Cadash, and Korrigan is a well a rogue,” Cullen said rubbing at his forehead.

“I fight in close quarters, it is my way.” 

“There isn’t space,” Cullen explained.

“There is always space, you shall just have to adjust.” The adjustment hadn’t happened as yet. Solas found it far easier to stay with Varric and Sera. Where all he needed to worry about was what was best, a bow or crossbow. Another argument he wasn’t getting involved in. Who doubted wisdom came with age.

The Korrigan hadn’t helped either, she seemed to have the ability to stand wherever the Madame wished to be. It was almost amusing to watch as Korrigan’s Knight would grow increasingly frustrated as she was almost stepped on by the Mage. It was clear from a distance that it was clearly through Korrigan’s manipulation. Cullen, however, was never rational when it came to the safety of his charge.

The worst had been when one of Korrigan’s wings had been slashed by the Madame. Now, if Solas had been asked he would have reminded them that nothing else had damaged them. That Korrigan had bent his own dagger against the not so fragile things.

He was not asked.

The wings had recovered the following day. 

The atmosphere between the Knight and the Madame had not recovered and was positively frosty. The Korrigan had glowed. If nothing else that alone would have been enough to persuade Solas she had done it to herself. That and he’d watched in the same fight a mace bounce off the wings doing nothing at all. Of course, a mace had nothing on the Madames magic sword. 

The Chargers had been a… welcome revelation and distraction to the parties disharmony. Korrigan had wept on being introduced their newest, Asterius. It had most distressed Ser Galahad. Solas had some sympathy, the Korrigan looked like innocence personified.

Solas had seen the moment that panic had dawned in the Knight’s eyes. The moment that small lip had trembled. The panic that appeared every time Korrigan’s lip trembled. In fairness to the Knight, Asterius had done little better.

It had been clear that Asterius had been expecting to deal only with the Knight. Not the silently weeping form of a tiny blonde be-winged creature fluttering at his face. Solas was fairly sure that he had lost all hope when the Korrigan had rested her forehead against his horns. It was curious how Solas now noticed all of the Korrigan’s tricks. 

It had however given them the advantage. The revelation that he was operating for the Qun not nearly as much of a surprise as Asterius clearly believed it would be. Korrigan had warned them beforehand that whilst he was a Saracen, he would remain so only for a while.

“Does this mean he’ll die?” Varric had asked. It had been curious to watch Korrigan ponder, hovering next to a berry bush.

“The born always die.” Another none answer. Although it wasn’t inaccurate, he had yet to see her lie.

“I think what Snurri is asking, little Korrigan is will he die sooner than he ought?” Cullen had gotten better at asking questions.

“Asterius is forced to make a decision, to remain a Saracen or to become a Knight. It will break his heart, a noble heart it is, but he will be a strong Knight for Arthur.” Korrigan had been most forthcoming with her answer. It was unusual, especially of late.

“Asterius is an interesting name Korrigan.” Varric had started to ask about their names more often.

“No harm Noble Galahad, the Saracen Asterius will bring no harm to you and yours. On the Saracen’s honour.” Korrigan had reassured, covered once more in sticky red juices.

Solas had wondered if she was getting blunter with her words, or if they were better able to read them. If it was both, as she had spoken to her Knight, there was little to misunderstand. It brought dread as well. He was unsure why, but it pinged in the back of his mind. The same way it did when Cadash was stopped from drinking from anywhere but the shrines.

Still, it had been much to his personal amusement, interesting to watch her take Asterius in hand. Cullen, her Knight had been distracted dealing with Harding. That in itself had been of little surprise, hearing how Leliana’s scouts had gone missing - again.

No, what had been amusing had been watching Cullen’s face as he caught on to the fact his charge was missing. More so as he had tracked her and the Qunari down. It had taken not only the Qunari’s strength but Cadash as well to stop Cullen from tearing across the bay. Across the bay to where his charge was.

Korrigan had left Asterius by a rock overlooking what had been a fight between a Vinsomer and a giant. Korrigan was now perched on the head of the same Vinsomer, a very much alive Vinsomer at that. If that wasn’t bad enough she looked as if she was having a very animated conversation with the giant. Cullen looked ready to explode. 

“You have a problem boss.” Asterius drawled. Solas let Galahad speak uninterrupted in an effort to keep the lines clearly drawn in the group. It was also interesting to see what the spy had to offer in the way of fresh insight. 

Varric had fallen on the unexploded mine to keep the Madame well away. It was curious to see Sera was now a lost cause to Korrigan’s quirks. She was perched on top of the rocky outcrop staring at the scene across the bay with stars in her eyes. Solas could almost feel it himself, it was an extraordinary scene, something that might have occurred back in the dawn of times. 

“There ain’t no way you can pretend that’s normal.” The spy continued, watching as intensely as Sera. “No way that lady back there, the one you all don’t like, will she pretend that’s normal.” 

Galahad merely grunted. Solas wasn’t sure if he approved of the response, it wasn’t a bad one but he could do better. Had done better before. Perhaps seeing Korrigan in such a dangerous position had Cullen unsettled.

“You have a problem.” Asterius finished with what Solas thought was an almost wistful note. 

“As a bodyguard to the Harbinger, how would you solve the problem?” Cadash asked. Solas could hear the threat, could see the subtle way Sera had responded to said threat. The way that Sera’s weapon was now halfway drawn in the way that they had all done when Sera had been the problem. It was curious to see how it had circled back, Sera-Robin was here to stay.

“Think she’ll let us kill it?” Asterius asked. Definitely wistful, as the Vinsomer screeched as it flew off. Korrigan had moved to the giant’s shoulder. Solas was amused to see the giant had acquired its own large crown that almost matched the spies. 

Galahad had his eyes closed as they made their way slowly as a group towards where the Harbinger was sat. Korrigan was still busy chattering away to the giant, the creature that made even Asterius look insignificant.

“No killing the Jötunn.” Solas was more convinced than ever that Korrigan was becoming easier to understand. He was also fairly sure Asterius had meant the Vinsomer than the giant. 

The giant was dismissed with the same tender kiss that Korrigan had graced Asterius, placed lovingly on the forehead. It ambled away gracefully, in a way he had never noticed before about the creatures. Now more a creature in the same way that a man was than a bear. How much of that was down to Korrigan, and how much to his own perception Solas was unsure. It was unsettling regardless.

From the way they had not been allowed to kill the giant, there was no such regard given to the Blades of Hessarian. Whilst one would have been hunted in respect for its strength and threat, the latter not given any such due.

All it had taken was a leer from the leader. A leer that had fallen on Korrigan’s small form. The countless jeers about death to the Inquisition had done little to upset their Galahad. He had only taken umbrage when they had looked at Korrigan and had torn them apart as a berserker might in response.

Solas was hard-pressed to be upset by that. Asterius had seemed impressed by the sheer fury hiding beneath the fatherly concern. The Madame had been appalled, having had to be pulled out of the way after she’d almost been decapitated. Perhaps Solas should thank Asterius for that later.

The Madame had continued to be appalled as they discovered a note amongst the fallen scouts. The invitation to attend the now decimated camp to challenge for leadership. For Solas, the idea of giving the Inquisition it’s own cult was not a particularly pleasant one.

“The Harbinger knew and still had you slaughter them!” The Madame stated.

“I will thank you to lay blame for their actions elsewhere,” Galahad said, Solas watched Korrigan gleefully dripping fruit down his chest. It was always interesting to watch Cullen ignore the point of a statement, he did it so well.

“Who is to know how much little Korrigan can see,” Cadash added. Solas could answer that one, looking at the glint in the Harbingers eye. He would lay odds she saw all, Asterius was giving her the same look.

“Well ask it.” The Madame demanded. Solas could tell that whilst they may have the same opinion on Korrigan’s being, she didn’t have the sense not to announce it.

“Korrigan is not an it,” Galahad said, turning away from the Madame. Solas had to applaud the actions, how much of Cullen’s were deliberate now he wasn’t sure. Still, it was a fine play. 

Then Korrigan had twisted the knife deeper with a kiss on her Galahad’s cheek. Before she had proceeded to press upon him the doom of any man who would live in the area from then on. She was most definitely getting blunter.

The fact that if there were no men to live here would leave the area to the wilds which would, well… Solas would be hard pushed not to imagine what the place would look like in a few short weeks. The wild stock would no longer be hunted by humans. A scout had already in the few short hours spotted the Vinsomer at the ruins of the Blades camp.

It had been enough for Galahad to order the retreat of all Inquisition members from the region. Korrigan, the look she had given to Solas could only be described as smug. It had been directed only at him, there was no mistaking things were changing. Coupled with the fact that she had been very responsive as they travelled to their next destination of the Redoubt.

Troubling times. Troubling times indeed were to come. Solas wasn’t afraid to admit that he had doubts as to the outcome.


	22. The Fat Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternative chapter title is The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Flowers, Coma, Lonely, Para, Paravox, and ConvenientComa for dealing with my panic and distraction and overall arghing with this chapter.

Asterius was bid to sit to listen by the babbling Korrigan about his namesake. It would prove enlightening for Solas to listen to. The Charger’s second, Cremisus, watched in morbid fascination as the tale managed to make even Asterius squirm, who had up until that moment made a point of being overly suggestive whenever and wherever he could. 

“In the time betwixt when the world was created, whence evil Oss were merry and rampant with their fiendish wanton desires. In the times where mankind had scorned their Creators. It was in this time a rival faction had grown out of the fledgeling empires of the mighty Greeks.

“The mighty Greeks had gifted fine skalds such as that of our own Snurri into the world. Even Oss who were not of the traitors kin demanding from their peoples’ tributes. Tributes of mighty beasts, the finest flesh, the finest wines and the softest skins. For the Oss are always needy and wanton in their needs.

“A King who had worshipped his Oss of the Sea - I will not spake his name for fear it tugs on the strings all Oss cling to. A name, a crack in the veil. A name and a whisper of a memory. A name is all it takes for them to creep back like bandits in the night.

“The Oss of the Sea demanded the sacrificing of a bull; the same bull the Oss had gifted the King. But the King saw that the bull was almost as beautiful as Audhumla. The same Sacred Cow that all such beasts offer their beginnings from.

“The King saw the beast, the mighty bull and wondered at the sense of sacrificing such a creature? Just because of the whim of the Sea Oss? Wondered so much that he did try and trick the Oss. It was a foolish thing to do, but brave even so. For the Oss can be tricked…” Korrigan's eyes glinted red. Solas spotted their change as she spoke of tricking the gods."

“The Sea Oss, he did not accept the sacrifice as he was due as it was not worthy for one so mighty as he. For he had the self-worth of the Madame.” Solas couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprang from his lips. He hadn’t been the only one to laugh, even Ser Galahad had a smirk on his lips.

“The Sea Oss was… upset. But not upset in the way he had been when dealing with others where he would use the seas to destroy the ships that sailed. Or how he would drown the cities that lay too close to his mercy. Instead he was tricksy, almost as tricksy as one of the lutins.” Korrigan spoke softly. There had been a hint of kind indulgence in her expression, as she stared out into the forest that lay black against the campfire.

“The Sea Oss decreed that if the bull had been too beautiful, too magnificent to escape a worthy sacrifice… Then it would be beautiful enough for a human to fall in love with.” Korrigan let out a cackle. “He was tricksy, very tricksy, so tricksy that one doubts he came upon this by himself. For as we know the Oss were never very bright.” 

Solas blinked as he was given a mocking look from the suddenly looming Korrigan. 

“But they, these new Oss were as all Oss are at their hearts, vindictive. So the Sea Oss did choose the King’s own wife for this new curse.” Solas credited this line as being the moment when Asterius had started to turn pale. The moment that their own Snurri had looked torn between delight at a new story from somewhere they knew not - and horror. Horror at the idea of a woman falling in love with a beast.

“The Queen approached the Kingdom’s best architect who built her a hollow wooden cow. It was far smaller than a Trojan Horse, much much smaller, for only one had to fit inside. No army for this Kingdom, merely a single woman.

“Several months later the Queen did give birth to Asterius the first of his kind, a Minotaur. But not the last. Asterius was the first.” For a moment, Solas was sure he saw eyes in the black where Korrigan was now staring.

“The King was angry, so very angry at the Queen. Yet it was his own trickery that it did occur, for had he not made a deal with an Oss in the first place than nought would come to pass.” Korrigan looked sad as she trailed off. Sad as she pressed her nose against the spies, sad as tears trickling down her cheeks to splash on the soft dirt.

“Korrigan, the Qunari do not breed with cows.” Galahad looked mortified. Clearly afraid his charge had offended their newest ally who was still looking pale and stunned at the tale. Solas wasn’t sure how much of it was down to the smell of salt in the air. How the black was now filled with eyes. 

“Silly Noble Galahad, Asterius is the Bull - the Iron Bull. He is man and bull, he is Asterius.” The tears had dried up and the ground looked dry as if nothing had spilt from her eyes. “The Saracens share their past with dragons. Too far to fly, too close to pretend to be as the bastard spawn of traitors,” said with an exasperated tone. Solas would be damned if Cullen hadn’t looked cowed by his tiny charge’s admonishment.

After this, she had left the rest of the tales to Varric. It had been much a relief to all involved as the stars and the moons had reappeared and the eyes vanished. Twice now they had heard the stories behind the names. Twice the tales had invoked something other, something dangerous.

Though Solas would happily bet Varric’s bedroll- as Cadash preferred to bet with- that the name Snurri had a simple story. Solas was more intrigued by the tales Korrigan wasn't sharing. The Puck, The Tam Lin, and the other one she had only once whispered when stirring from her long rest: The Lore Key. A name that had echoed with a deep pain before they returned to the act they played out: Korrigan and Solas, Other and Wolf. 

Galahad was another he was intrigued by. There was something with that, it was so heavily linked with Arthur and his Merlin. Something that had her playing the innocent child when the topic was even casually broached. 

A stretch, a yawn, and then a skitter in the brush that would divert attention. As often as diversions seemed to appear when Solas attempted to enquire over the roots of the headaches. Solas had a very clear idea where those at least could be tracked back to. But then Solas hadn’t doubted it from the beginning. No, Solas needed Galahad- Cullen- to see the cause, to see it before it became too late.

Perhaps it had become too late already? Although he assumed that when the headaches stopped that would be the sign. Too late to deal with the creature; she would no longer be a threat.

Solas spent much of the journey to the Redoubt watching carefully. Time was spurring on faster than it had as he’d slept. They were about to crest the top of the wave. He could feel it. The point of no return and it scared him. Scared him in the way watching the Evanuris had scared him. The feeling that it was soon to be inevitable. 

What would be inevitable? 

He would catch Korrigan’s gaze, her strange red eyes as she dripped the red fruits down her Knight’s front. But the scent for a scant moment would not be of fruit, but flesh. Her teeth would sharpen, her ears lengthen, the air would flicker and then? Then it would be as if he had been imagining it with the sweetness of ripe fruit cloying the air once more.

Cadash. Cadash was swiftly becoming something to be studied. No longer needing to sleep, or not that he could see. She would take first and last watch with her eyes always returning to the Korrigan. There wasn’t anything new in that regard, but now? Now it was with a singular focus. Even as the creature was settled like a bird on the Knight’s broad shoulder, or tucked up on his lap. Cadash would with every sixth heartbeat glance back at Korrigan.

Solas had watched. Had watched how she moved with the same touch of odd grace that Korrigan moved with. How Cadash had all but stopped eating anything but the same fish and fruit Korrigan consumed. Drinking nothing that hadn’t first been collected from a shrine.

This he wasn’t sure that the others had noticed if Cadash even had herself. Asterius hadn’t known Cadash from before, the only one who might notice such things? Would the Qun have paid attention to Cadash? Perhaps they would pay attention to eating habits? It would make sense to, after all. Something he would have asked of his own people.

Would the Qun consider a lady’s maid? Yes, of course they would. Even more so, Solas would have targeted Cadash even above himself. Only Cullen- Galahad- ranked above the small dwarf for the most to be watched. So perhaps Asterius would have noticed. He would not, however, have had access to the details of when the change had begun or what Solas believed to have happened.

Solas wasn’t even sure he knew exactly what had happened. Merely that Cadash had felt different from the moment she had sat in the water. He had felt a spark, felt the rumble of an odd magic as his fingers had touched her bare skin. From that moment on, Solas had watched her. The energy she now had, he had felt her presence peal like the sound of a droplet on Galahad’s armour.

It wasn’t just her either, this strange odd magic, the different energy. He had felt it more as they neared the oldest of the shrines, her shrines. Oldest of the shrines was laughable when staring at the dates. And yet. Yet the earliest shrines the creature had created were now entrenched as deeply as the molten rock in the deep roads. They were different; there was no denying. 

Perhaps he would seek out the Skywatcher’s accounts when they returned to Haven. Solas would be intrigued to see if Amund had noticed anything different beyond the fact they were all different to anything else he had seen before. If he had noticed the small strange creatures that faded into the brush. If he had smelt the odd tang on the air, the way the water tasted sweeter. If he cared that the Avvar shrines had all but crumbled away under the might of her shrines.

If Cadash was a single droplet, and the shrines a gentle stream, then Korrigan was the sea itself. So loud that he almost couldn’t hear it for the noise of it. So loud that when he did stop to listen properly, it was all he could hear. He almost wondered if that was the cause of the Madame’s discomfort as the trip wore on. 

Sera could hear it; she hummed the rhythm whilst they fought. The rhythm of her arrows matching the beat of the waves as they crashed against his senses. 

The noise of it had made sleep-- the Fade was changing too. The familiar forms now different in ways that echoed with the Korrigan.

Afraid, not afraid. It was different, different as the lands had been as he had first woken. How far her influence had ranged? That was the question, one he would be able to check with his others. A simple question but a necessary one.

She knew. She knew he felt the change as well. He knew she knew. It was obvious from the flash of a fang, for it was a fang she had started to flash at him. A fang where her mouth had been as that of Galahad’s all flattened teeth. For Solas, in the moment where their eyes would meet, the fangs as sharp as a tailor’s needle.

The Korrigan was as afraid of him as she was of her Knight. It made Solas wonder: had she ever truly been cautious around him or had it all been merely an act?

But then? Then she would press a kiss upon his cheek and whisper softly in his ear as Korrigan let the power flow through him. Kissing away the tears that fell against his will as he tasted his previous glory. Kissing, lapping, grazing with her rough tongue as she scraped at his skin, marking him. 

Was he afraid of her? Was the Mighty Dread Wolf frightened of the tiny Korrigan? 

It was a question he had examined, one he wished he could speak with Wisdom, Wisdom who had been missing. Missing since the first of the dreams that felt a lifetime ago and, at the same time, only days ago.

No, not frightened by her. Not when he had three names to her. He was her Puck, her Tam Lin, her Lore Key. It made little sense for Korrigan to name Solas such and then for him to be frightened, surely? He would throw in Varric’s boots if any of them with names did not make it through whatever was to come next. 

He would admit to being unsettled by what that might be. Had Korrigan yet told a tale that didn’t involve treachery of some kind?

Solas would try again, try again to have that conversation with her Knight. To make one last attempt to open Cullen’s eyes as to the nature of the small creature who batted her lashes at the tall man. To warn Cullen of his suspicions. Cullen had asked before, asked for his advice before. And the words he had wanted to say had lingered in his throat unable to be spoken.

These same words that wouldn’t linger now as Korrigan played with Solas, with fangs flashing. Now these same words he could speak them, had spoken them if only to the trees. One last attempt. If Korrigan would answer to any of them, would it be to the man she clung to?

Solas could feel her eyes on him again. The curious warmth of the unnatural gleam. Watching him with that smile, the amused smile of a mother watching a child squirm before her. The Mighty Dread Wolf, a fat mouse before the well-fed cat.

The peak was coming and coming soon. His ears would be as open as he could manage without getting lost in the maelstrom of the Korrigan. If his breath stuttered in his throat? If his head banged loudly? And if his mouth turned dry? He would learn to quench his thirst in the shrines as Cadash had learnt to do….


	23. Æthelflæd

It wasn’t that they were wanting to have problems; no one invited it. That hadn’t been the cause for discomfort as they arrived at Therinfal Redoubt. They had arrived late at night, having chosen to soldier on rather than arrive mid-morning. All the better to catch the Templars bright and bushy-tailed in the morning.

No, they hadn’t wanted to have problems, but the lack of issue had been surprising at their arrival. Surprising in the way that only a few short weeks earlier the Order had accused the Inquisition of being the enemy and now they were all but begging to lend aid.

The Inquisition group had arrived at the campsite just outside the walls of the keep. The Noble company had chosen to leave them to it, preferring their own kind than that of the travel-weary group.

Cadash had once again offered to take the first Korrigan watch. The small female was busy fluttering her lashes at the younger recruits. It was an uphill battle even now for Cullen and Cadash to keep her from gorging on the sugar-dense fruit. Not that it helped when as soon as they turned their backs she would be begging the easily-swayed youngsters.

Varric had gladly agreed to take the last watch, with Cadash promising to wake Asterius as soon as the earliest hours hit. The mood in the camp was strange, strange in the way that they were aware of the Noble company. Strange in the way that they were very aware of the reception they may face from the Order behind the walls.

Cadash had, in the end, failed to wake anyone. It had been curious, as Asterius had claimed to have slept deeper on that night than any night previous. Varric was often known for being difficult to wake, but the spy slept as lightly as Solas. No one had woken in the night, a fact that did not come to light until much later. Odd.

Cadash had explained after Cullen had raked her over the coals for not doing as she ought, that she had felt more awake at night. She had felt more alert that night than she had in the hours leading up to it. It had been another oddity that was not to be examined, as so many things had become.

Cullen had been more forgiving of this oversight after Korrigan had taken him in hand. It had been a remarkably clean hand instead of the usually sticky one. She had taken him by the hand and led him to the shrine she had created whilst they slept. He had returned with his dismay now forgiven and forgotten for the dereliction of his second. Cadash had been remarkably quiet as she watched the bewinged female beguile her keeper with ease.

Korrigan once more changing the conversation to suit a whim. Her whim. 

The call had come from the Keep of the Lord Seeker agreeing to meet with Knight-Errant Cullen. The only request made was that they would leave the Harbinger behind. The Harbinger who had a happy smile upon her face. The Harbinger who was already perched upon Cadash’s shoulder as she all but waved them off with little care.

No, they had not wanted to face problems, but this was unsettling. Unsettling as the three core males from the beginning remembered the last time she smiled so beatifically. It smelled of warning. It rang of danger. It tasted of something foul.

Cullen was tasked with arranging the flags in order, an order that did little to surprise the cohort. The Harbinger first, The Maker and the People. Solas had watched as he had moved with little hesitation, the Harbinger the highest, there was little doubt. The people and the Maker had caused the Knight more thought. The Maker had been all-important in the beginning to the man, and now, now he left him at the same level as the people.

It was interesting. 

After the flags were played with, they were quickly brought through the keep. Asterius moved to guard the Knight’s front whilst Varric watched his back. He was flanked on either side by the two mages, with the Madame choosing the right, much to the Knight’s displeasure. 

They were given a short tour of the junior barracks and introduced to several Templars who were busy playing cards. The Knight greeted one as an old friend. There had been a moment of unease as Varric had also greeted them. Kirkwall then. Kirkwall always made the atmosphere change.

As Asterius had been wrong-footed when greeted with the reality of a crying child, so were the small band of the Inquisition with the warm welcome from the Lord Seeker.

“Ah, Knight-Errant Cullen. It is a pleasure to see you again, though in better circumstances. It is a shame that we lost such talent to the Inquisition,” Lord Seeker greeted them complete with a hearty handshake. The same man who had all but spat at them in the square now beaming in almost the same manner as Korrigan had not long before.

“Lord Seeker Lucius. It is a pleasure to meet with you again and as you say, in better circumstances.” The Knight kept his tone polite, his training overriding the unease Solas could see in his eyes.

“What can the Order do for the Inquisition?” The Lord Seeker had an almost jovial tone. It did little to calm the now overly suspicious gathering.

“We have come to request aid from the Templars to help subdue the breach so that it may be closed. We believe that the Templars should be able to dampen the effects reliably. It is a far safer option than the far riskier route of pushing power into it.” Cullen spoke carefully. Solas was pleased that he hadn’t glanced more than twice at Solas here.

The Templars had been welcoming, but they were still Templars and he was still surrounded by them. The least amount of invitation to his presence the better. Even the Madame looked uneasy at how quickly they had been circled.

“Now that sounds like the sort of forward-thinking ideas we are missing from The Order. What a wise plan indeed!” The Lord Seeker slapping Cullen on the shoulder in what Solas would describe as overly animated manner.

“Well then, for such a fine plan how can we refuse? You shall have our finest young Templars for sadly the more seniors would be of more use here. But the younglings with a couple of the older, closer to retirement seniors to keep them in line would be our pleasure to provide. What am I saying? As if you couldn’t keep them in line! The Knight who had his finger on the lifeblood of Kirkwall!” 

“Yes, thank you. We are very pleased that we have been able to come to such a conclusion to the request.” Cullen had managed to keep a very polite smile on his face. Solas had been impressed as the Lord Seeker still had hold of Cullen’s shoulder.

“Good man, good man. Now you’ll be eager to be off no doubt. Eager to close that wretched hole in the sky and start work on making the Order something to be proud of rather than feared. Yes, well I’ll have them ready for you at first light. I’d invite you to stay but with so many having to prepare to leave and the others taking on new duties... Well, you understand I’m sure. A lot of upheaval, similar to that of what happened in Kirkwall.” Solas was convinced the Lord Seeker was playing with Cullen. His fingers hadn’t left the shoulder even then.

“Of course. Will we be having the pleasure of your company at first light or will this be a farewell until we return after our duty is done?” Cullen asked, having made no attempt to move. Solas had been pleased to see him only watch as the Lord Seeker had swayed ever so slightly with the breeze. 

“Sadly I shall have my own duties to attend with. Perhaps when you return I will have the pleasure of meeting with the Harbinger. The word on the vine has that she is most interesting.” The Lord Seeker finally released the Knight with another beaming smile.

“Yes, I - well of course. I am sure the Harbinger will be most pleased to make your acquaintance as a fellow ally in the fight against the atrocities we are uncovering. We shall take your leave but perhaps you would honour us with your blessing?” Cullen asked with only the mere hint of hesitation. Solas had been curious as to this request. The Knight hadn’t asked once for a blessing though the Knight had been blessed many times by the various Chantry members that had met. Why from the Lord Seeker, and now? When his faith seemed at its weakest.

“Of course, dear boy, of course. With the blessings of the Maker upon your quest, Ser Noble Galahad.” Solas had paused as the Lord Seeker had uttered the name gifted by Korrigan. The Lord Seeker had departed before he could ask if he had wanted to draw attention to himself. The large wooden doors closing behind the strange man with a resolute thud. They had been dismissed.

The small Inquisition group had left quietly, not speaking until they were back at the camp. Korrigan had waited precisely long enough for her Knight to sit down before climbing all over him.

“That went well.” Asterius drawled, watching Solas in the manner he often did.

“It did; didn’t it?” Solas replied, Varric watching him now with the same expression. The expression reminded Solas that whilst their Snurri delighted in the stories, he had his own network for a reason.

“Well now darlings we did, after all, achieve what we set out to do. Surely that is something to be celebrated?” Vivienne brushed a speck of dust from her arm. Solas was interested to see the faint discomfort behind the tightness of her eyes.

“Perhaps we should wait to celebrate until after we’ve closed the breach?” Solas replied, straightening up with his hands clasped behind his back. Korrigan had carried on using her Knight as a climbing frame.

“Of course you would feel that we have achieved something suspicious. I am merely pleased that the Inquisition sees the folly of trusting rebels to bring about the solution.” Vivienne batted back. Solas gave her his best smile, complete with teeth.

“I am glad to see that even now it is clear to see where your loyalties lie.” It was now Vivienne's turn to return the toothy smile with the merest wisp of an upturned lip.

“Madame, could I trouble you to check with our Noble guests and inform them of our plans? You are better suited to such company than myself, I fear,” The Knight interjected. It wasn’t as adept as Solas had tried to instruct upon him, nor had the same lightness of touch as Lady Dace might have had. It had been enough however for the Madame to depart with little fuss. Enough that they were sent back word via a runner she would stay with the Noble company until the following morning.

“We should be worried.” Asterius now addressed Solas. The Knight was too busy distracted by Korrigan.

“What _did_ happen?” Cadash asked, leaning forward. Korrigan was now hanging from Cullen’s neck whispering at him as he half-heartedly smiled at the babble.

“The Lord Seeker had a change of heart somewhere between Val Royeaux and here. He is now very happy to hand over all of his less experienced Templars for the cause. Oh and some of those who are heading into their dotage.” Solas gave the female a half-smile. It was almost amusing if not for the implications of what such a turn about could mean.

“The same Lord Seeker who looked as if he would kill us all stone dead in the middle of the square?” Cadash asked slowly. Varric had snorted; Asterius gave a peculiar smile.

“The Lord Seeker is envious.” Korrigan giggled speaking into Cullen’s chest as she drew her runes in red sticky drips. “He wishes great power and has understood that to get great power, he must do as bid.” 

“Should we be worried little Korrigan?” Cullen asked, smiling as she shook her head never looking up from her drawing.

“Only Envy has something to be worried about. Envy doesn’t get to have the power. Envy is too weak. Poor Envy. To always want and never receive. Compassion though, Compassion gains; Compassion grows.” Korrigan had almost covered Cullen’s entire chest with her runes. 

“Poor Noble Galahad has no need to worry about Envy. Envy will be no more.” She blew at the shoulder where the Lord Seeker had left his fingers for so long. It shimmered. 

“The lesser Knights will come on the morrow, bushy as lambs’ tails. They will stand shiny and new, eager to do as bid. They will return to the Maker as promised.” The smile she finally gave her Knight was dazzling, before kissing his forehead.

“Korrigan mentioned something else we need to be aware of whilst you were at the Keep,” Cadash spoke hesitantly, her eyes trained on Korrigan as the Harbinger weaved fresh flowers into the curls of her Knights hair.

“Anything we should be worried about?” Solas asked. It was more than clear that Cullen was utterly distracted by Korrigan’s shenanigans.

“She claimed there would be a sickness that would kill all the nains if they remained in Haven whilst the Templars are there.” Cadash never let her gaze fall away from Korrigan. 

“The Templars come and the nains do die. The nains should not die because of the Templars Noble Galahad. The nains should retreat to Asgard with Puck and Vafthrudnir. Robin too, so that she does not get lonely, for the Robin needs her merry men.” There was a distinctly mournful tone to Korrigan’s voice as she spoke.

“So that’s the dwarves and most of the elves gone from Haven by the time we return with the Templars, Korrigan.” Solas was matter of fact, unaffected by the big tears that rolled down Korrigan’s face.

“All dead, all dead. Korrigan is little nain; all the nains dead. The nains need to live, should live, live and live and live. All the Puck has to do is dance across the white water, leading as the Piper once did. With Vafthrudnir by his side to keep them safe. He should lead and the nains will follow to safety. Just until the Templars return to the Maker.” Korrigan babbled, with Cullen desperately trying to wipe her eyes dry. 

“And Asterius and the Chargers? Do they come with us as we go to wherever it is you have seen?” Solas asked, watching as Cullen used another of his many hankies to no avail as the tears poured.

“Poor Puck, you know Asgard. Spent lifetimes in Asgard, the once home of your dreams. Asgard the castle in the sky, where the Oss did live away from the mortal man.” There was a moment where the world stilled. Where Korrigan looked at Solas and for a moment he glimpsed something that he was almost too afraid to see.

“Asterius is safe from the Templars. He needs to keep Noble Galahad safe as his three most trusted roam far and near.” And like that the moment ended, jolting them back to where everyone else was. Solas glanced at the spy, to see if he had noticed anything. It was Cadash who watched him though.

“Perhaps it isn’t a disease then that will bring death to the nains? Should we also take the elves as well, perhaps the vulnerable?” Solas asked. Was this the inevitable? Was this what had been preying on his mind for what felt like a lifetime?

“The Templars bring a disease of sorts, one that brings death to the nains if they stay.” Korrigan was now standing on Cullen’s shoulder, one hand entwined in his hair as she stared at Solas with that odd, Other gaze.

“And to the others too?” Robin asked softly, her gaze trained on the very still Cadash. 

“You are all fated to die in the end, Robin Hood.” The rest of the world had fallen silent.

“Just not today,” Robin whispered.

“Robin Hood has tales to tell, stories to live. The Templars will not be the Robin’s end.” Korrigan gifted her a smile, the same warm mothering smile she sometimes gifted to Solas.

“Is there anything we need to know, Korrigan? Anything that you haven’t said?” Solas tried desperately, even as Robin had sunk to the floor running a trembling hand over her bow.

“I can answer any question you ask my poor Puck. You just have but to ask.” The smile she now gave Solas was not in the slightest bit mothering. Solas hadn’t seen her blink, and the weight in her eyes, the sound of the sea… it was almost too much.

“If the elves remain, will they die?” He was Pride, he would not be defeated by a child.

“The elves are as fated to die as you all are. Death escapes no seelie, no nain, no man and no minotaur.” 

“But they will die if they remain when the Templars arrive?” He was Pride, he was Pride, he was Pride.

“The nains will, yes. Puck will not, nor will Robin. But Asterius will not either and Asterius is no nain. Ser Galahad will not and he is no nain either. He is my Noble Ser Galahad, the Noblest of the Knights.” Solas chose to look at Cullen. He had chosen to look away. He had not been forced to.

“The Templars will be on foot, so it will take longer to return than by horse. If we are to clear all of Haven of the Dwarves, we should depart while we still have light.” Cadash said with some reluctance, her hand reaching for her flask before flinching.

“Perhaps if Korrigan has seen the ill fate of her kin, it is better to leave immediately. Solas, please tell me you know where Korrigan means by this Asgard?” Cullen asked as if half in a dream as he mopped away at the densely rich juices that clung to his chest.

“I believe perhaps I do? The Castle in the Sky is somewhere that I have visited often in the Fade. Although perhaps Amund may guide us better if he has word of it as Korrigan suggests.” Solas felt very much diminished from the imposing figure he had been with Vivienne. “I shall try and remove the vulnerable as well as a precaution. What would you have me tell the Nightingale?” He faced Cullen, unable to look at the small form on his shoulder.

“Where there were three, there are now two. Where there are two, there will only be one,” Korrigan chanted. Cullen was chuckling at the now-beaming Korrigan.

“Tell Leliana that I have done as bid. That we will be returning with the Templars and that we will close the breach. Tell her that Korrigan has warned ill fate to the Dwarves if they stay in Haven with the Templars there. I believe she will understand why it might be an issue. When the Templars are back here, we will send word for your return.” Cullen was positively glowing.

“Cullen, no matter what happens next, I will do my best to keep the innocent and vulnerable safe from the Templars.” Solas felt the need to offer. He wanted to believe that the issue was with the rumours of Templars preferring dwarves. He wanted to. 

“Of course you will. It is why I trust no other more than you, my friend. Just be careful out there, and take plenty of provisions. You’ll be taking Varric, after all, and if anyone can instigate drinking, it’s Varric.” Cullen slapped Varric on the shoulder, almost mimicking the Lord Seeker.

“Curly, just be careful alright? It’s too easy.” Varric said slowly.

“You call having to relocate all of the Dwarves from Haven easy? I’m impressed, Varric. Korrigan isn’t worried, and don’t worry about us. I’ll have Asterius and the Chargers with us. Oh and the Madame, so what can possibly go wrong?” There was a visible wince from everyone who wasn’t Cullen or Korrigan.

“Curly, please be careful.” Varric tried again.

“I’ll get him out of this alive; don’t worry.” Asterius hefted his two-handed sword out before resheathing it.

“The Compassion will survive and help too. Æthelflæd has enough to last to stop the pain. A sip a day keeps the pain at bay. A sup and waters will fail to quench the thirst. Only a sip, remind Æthelflæd, Robin; remind her to only sip once a day.” Korrigan appeared at her maid’s side, pressing a kiss on her hand.

“Noble and brave, if it would not spell your death, I would not treat you so poorly. If I were to quench the thirst now, you would need more than a sip. No more today. No more until the sun has passed the highest point, Robin. For if Robin does love Æthelflæd as she promises, she will make sure this comes to pass.” 

“Only a little more?” There was no mistaking the faint tremble in Cadash’s hand as it stroked the flask lovingly.

“Puck, if Robin fails in her duty, it is to you. You must take the waters from Æthelflæd, you must make sure. If you fail at this, then you will not see the Wisest again.” He dipped his head at the force of the words. 

“Be brave, Æthelflæd, parting is such sweet sorrow. No poison will you sup; soon we shall reunite. Bathe in the waters, where the fish do dance and the stones doth sparkle.” Cadash closed her eyes as Korrigan kissed her on the forehead. “Go now. Go and find Asgard anew.”

They left shortly after, leaving only Asterius and the Chargers with Cullen and Korrigan. The decision had been made not to inform the Madame of the change of plans. Far better to leave that until the morning, when it would be much too late to debate. Instead, the reduced group opted for an early night. 

Asterius volunteered his second for the Korrigan watch after it had dawned on Cullen to let the scouts do so. Cremisius had adeptly intervened when Korrigan had beguiled a scout into handing over a fresh pot of honey. It had endeared the man to Cullen in ways that the Madame hadn’t.

As first light had crept over the horizon, both camps began to stir. The Nobles woke only to wish the Inquisition blessing and good tidings for their completion of the task set out in front of them. For the Nobles, it had been a fun jaunt, more a social event than anything more serious. A social event that would earn them regard from their King as it had been at his behest they had attended.

The Madame had returned with little more than a sniff at the missing members until they had parted ways with nobility. 

“Is it wise to let the hedge mage loose by himself?” Cullen tensed at this. It had fallen on Asterius to act the mediator, taking his bodyguarding duties seriously. 

“Hark, what comes on yonder distance there,” Korrigan chirped, fluttering high up in the air as Asterius was busy explaining to the Madame what exactly had happened.

It was as promised, the junior Templars marching out of the Redoubt with smiles. There had been no sign of anyone bar those who were coming. The Lord Seeker did not even appear at the door. The juniors had been informed that the rest would be locked in for silent reflection to help them with their duties.

The Templars had been given rations to take, which were promptly handed to the Chargers on the Knight’s command. A precaution only, one that Asterius had made in idle speculation the night prior as they had bedded down. It was something that also had the Madame sniffing about if only half-heartedly.

With the older Templars allowed to travel on the Chargers’ carts and the juniors being young and fit, they made the journey back in good time. The mood had been buoyant as the Templars mixed with the very cheery Chargers. The Order was very happy to be in the role of the good in such a visible undeniable way. The Lord Seeker had spent time explaining how important their roles were in what was to come; they had shared that titbit without asking.

Even without their uniforms on, it was easy to differentiate between the Order and the Chargers. Even for Cullen who had little time to get to know every Charger. The Order were the ones without crowns. The Madame was the only other without one.

“Fancy that…” Asterius had given his second a half-smirk, as he’d rearranged his own crown for the third time that hour.

“Yeah Chief… fancy that.”


	24. "Happily Ever After"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Closing of the Breach.

When the Knight and his Templars returned to Haven, there were only humans left. The forward group had done as Korrigan had bid, much to the relief of the Knight. The Dwarves had chosen to follow Puck and Vafthrudnir with the other non-human element to Asgard, with only a few choosing to head to other refuges instead. 

The village felt empty. There was no denying it. The groups of Dwarves who had been ever-present for months were now gone. The humans who remained to fill the void were forced to work longer hours to keep up with the shortage of warm bodies.

The atmosphere was mixed. The civilians were busier than ever with the added work of preparing for the influx of Templars. Cassandra was training the soldiers harder than ever as well. Her bellows echoed across the valley as they were made to fight on the icy surface of the great lake. 

Then there were the scouts. The scouts hadn’t smiled once at their return. Nothing to be concerned about there.

Cullen was pulled off to another meeting as soon as they arrived back. He wasn’t suffering from the same exhaustion as the last time. They had been able to rest at almost every major Korrigan shrine on the way back to refresh. How refreshing the shrines were depended upon who was asked. For Cullen, it had been as if a year had been removed from his age. For the Templars, the cravings had only grown more desperate.

As Cullen waltzed off to say his piece as a victorious leader, Korrigan was handed over to Asterius’ second Cremisius. Korrigan had taken a definite shine to the man, much to the spy's concerned delight. She had enjoyed playing with all of the Chargers, who were much more pliable to her charms than the Templars. Korrigan was happy to be tossed from person to person as she hunted down each bit of fruit hidden.

The Templars didn’t as such know how to deal with Korrigan. So they followed the Madame’s example and merely ignored her antics as the Knight-Errant was not someone to cross. When they arrived back, they were put to rest by handing them over to the two Knight-Captains loitering on the near side of Haven. The Madame cast a disapproving look at the red-stained Korrigan who was busy babbling at the Tevinter merc before making her move. The Madame sniffed and disappeared off to the closest thing she could find to civilised company.

In all, it had been left to the Chargers to create a space next to the stables, as no one had bothered to direct them. Korrigan helped erect simple tents by stealing pegs and dropping them on the tops of unsuspecting heads. It amused Asterius the most, who managed to dodge all pegs dropped in his general direction.

Cullen didn’t return until the early hours of the following morning. He looked anxious as he woke Asterius. Korrigan was barely awake, clinging to Cremisius, who appeared at the Knight’s return.

“Are you able to get word to your missing Chargers?” Cullen asked, his words hushed against the almost unnatural quiet of the snowy field.

“How quickly do you need to reach them?” Asterius answered. The noises of mating rose from the tents around them. 

“They want the Breach closing at daybreak. The skies will be clear two days hence. I need to know before then.” 

“Should we be worried?” Asterius asked. Cullen mimed placing hands over Korrigan’s ears. Cremisius frowned in response to this, but still did as bid after a glance from the spy.

“There is someone missing from the kitchens. I would like to know if they are with Solas.” Cullen didn’t look at Korrigan as he spoke to Asterius. 

“And you couldn’t ask anyone here?” Asterius glanced at his second who still had his ears over Korrigan’s ears. “Someone who would know.”

“She is no longer working in the kitchens. Hasn’t been since we last left. They are unaware of where she went afterwards. I would like- I need to know if she is with the others at Asgard.” A beat as the spy and the Knight stared at each other.

“I’ll send word to Dalish. A name will help.” Cullen shook his head.

“Solas, Cadash or Varric will know who I mean. Ask if she is with them.” Cullen pleaded. Asterius nodded slowly. The mating noises died out around them in a rippling effect. 

“Thank you.” Cullen gently pried Korrigan from Cremisius’ grip, stroking her hair as she snuffled into his neck. “There is nothing left in my previous cabin. In fact, it is currently housing explosives.” 

“Did they not think you would be returning?” Asterius asked as Cremisius moved to give the Knight some space.

“Oh, they have kindly provided a bed in the Chantry but, well… Perhaps you would allow us to stay with your good selves until we depart?” The Knight asked with a marked lightness to his tone. 

“Sure, you’re more than welcome to bed down with Krem,” Asterius gave his second a leer who merely waved it off.

“Yes, Chief, more the merrier. Not enough room in yours for you and your pillowy man bosoms as it is. Me and the Knight here will fit just nicely, and he won’t even have to worry about the smell of what you call feet.”

“Krem, that just hurts.” They exchanged grins. Korrigan let out a small huffing noise.

Word hadn’t returned by the time they were wrangling Korrigan to wake up. The deep blue of the predawn sky was not enough to stir her sleeping form as she had settled back into her normal Haven state. Korrigan’s Galahad was almost as pale as the bewinged female, cushioned between his two most reliable allies left in Haven.

How had that happened? In a place where he had known some of the people for years, the two he trusted most now was a known spy and a Tevinter merc? 

Asterius was chatting cheerfully with Krem over Galahad’s head as they had given up attempting to elicit any conversation out of the Knight. Korrigan opened an eye as Krem fed her from a bowl of soft fruits smothered in thick honey, before huffing back to sleep.

All but the Knight marched cheerfully up the mountain range. Vivienne and Cassandra were leading the charge with the Templars following closely behind. The Chargers were bringing up the rear. Asterius was confident Korrigan would wake once they reached their destination. Though when Krem had pushed him on it, he’d been unable to explain why.

He hadn’t been far off either. As soon as they entered the ruins, Korrigan started to become more alert. Krem ruffled Korrigan’s hair and handed over a small coin purse to his boss. 

“Korrigan, you couldn’t have waited a little while longer?” Korrigan’s only response had been to accept food from the man. Her Knight was wincing as honey dripped over her formerly clean outfit. It had been the cleanest she’d been for a while, until that point. Now her white woollen shift was red, sticky, and pressed against the Knight.

“Thanks Krem.” 

“Always happy to help.” Krem gave a mock bow, and Asterius snorted at the Knight’s glare.

It took time for the Templars to be positioned, by which point Korrigan was able to stand by herself with her eyes open, no less. It was almost a miracle according to Stitches who had been tasked with keeping an eye on her in her normal healer's absence. 

Korrigan stood in the depth of the ruins. The tendrils of sunlight clipped through the ruined arches to play off her translucent wings. The green of the Fade reflected onto her luminescent skin. Her golden hair floated in the nonexistent breeze as she stood silently waiting.

She had never looked as Other to her Galahad as she did in this moment. Korrigan held his gaze, her bright red eyes unblinking as he dropped to his knees before her. Her tiny marked hand delicately cupped his cheek.

A moment.

A lifetime.

Korrigan pressed a soft kiss upon her Galahad’s forehead. 

“Fear not, my Noble Galahad. The story ends not for you here; you have much work to do.” The words were spoken softly as the tiny Korrigan loomed over the Knight who trembled at her feet.

“Templars, on my command,” Cassandra called out behind them, breaking the moment. Korrigan pressed another softer kiss upon the man’s lips, pulling him to his feet as she fluttered upwards.

“I shall share with you a secret. Something they will not teach you in your temples. The gods you worship envy you. They envy you because you are mortal. Because at any moment, it might be your last. Everything is more beautiful because you are all doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. You will never be here again.” Korrigan had fluttered higher still, now addressing the men and women who stared up at the Harbinger, mouths open. Her lilting voice soft and thrumming through their bones.

“You wonder if it will close? You wonder if you will prevail. Here is your answer: all things die, all things.” Korrigan turned to face away from them, lifting her head to the Breach as her arm reached up.

She hung in the sky, almost touching the tendrils of Fade that fell towards the ground below. One the Templars took to one knee, their eyes closed. As bid, the Templars focused past to the Breach as it calmed. The Harbinger spread her wings to their fullest span.

The Harbinger pulled a long stream of green Fade that crackled and spat as it was soaked up by the mark. The Sky snapped in place as the last of the green disappeared, leaving the sky almost watery in its wake. 

Korrigan hung like a second sun, her skin blazing with an intense glow as beneath her the Templars cheered.

“New problem…” Asterius muttered as Krem merely rolled his eyes. The two men now both held the Knight upright. The Harbinger outshone the sun. Her wings didn’t even flicker as she stayed high and proud, gazing down on them.

“I am the earth, the sky, the sun and the stars. You cannot fathom all that I am, all that I will be, all that I mean to you.” Korrigan’s soft words echoed through each person as they stood in her light.

“Big problem…”

Korrigan was more awake than ever as they all made their way back down to Haven. The Templars once again lead the way as the Chargers followed with less structure behind.

The Knight was now more reassured when Korrigan started pestering for food once more. He failed to pass a single comment as many hands pushed more fruit into Korrigan's tiny ones. Not even when most of it dripped onto his no longer clean armour.

“Korrigan looks very shiny,” Asterius mentioned. The light of the Harbinger’s skin bounced off all the reflective surfaces, half blinding them as they walked down the snowy mountain to Haven.

“I’m just pleased she’s awake.” The Knight retorted. He frowned when he was elbowed by Grim who was tussling with Korrigan over a pot of honey. Krem was busy whistling innocently. It looked suspiciously like the pot he had used to tempt her earlier that morning.

“Right… Nothing seems odd then?” Asterius asked.

“It’s just very sunny.” 

“Uh-huh…” 

The Breach had been closed quite easily, despite how difficult Solas had warned it might be. Only a couple of Templars had passed out as the Harbinger had knitted the sky back together. If anything, it had been fairly uneventful.

Korrigan looked even more awake than she had earlier. Krem had winced as he’d pressed his hand against her cheek. When Cullen had, there was a buzzing to her skin. Stitches had frowned, but Korrigan seemed fine. 

“Solas would know,” Cullen mumbled, ignoring the eye roll from the Chargers' medic.

“Solas isn’t here, but the little un is as excitable as she was before, so.” Stitches retorted.

“Ser Galahad worries for his little Korrigan, for he is noble and true of heart.” Korrigan pressed sticky kisses against her Knight’s cheek. It made a small difference to the unease at having to rely on the lesser healer. 

It was the price to be paid, as the Chargers had lost their mages to the Asgard-bound group. How far the Knight had come, to be missing mages. 

They were greeted by Leliana, who respectfully requested a private consultation with the Harbinger. The Knight was less than convinced by such a request. Much trust had been lost in the Nightingale. Korrigan, however, had fluttered across to the Spy Mistress with nary a word. Not even the red dripping kiss on the pale woman’s cheek made the Knight unwind.

Instead he was bustled off with the Chargers as they picked their way through the campfires of celebrations. Even with the lack of other races, it seemed as if Haven had swollen in its cheer, with every available clearing turned over for merriment.

The Chargers had little to celebrate. Their tents kept dismantling around their ears until they gave up altogether and packed them away. It was that or fight the losing battle as the tents refused to stay upright for more than a moment.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the casks of ale exploded in a spectacular fashion. Not a drop could be saved bar that which clung to faces. It had left them sober and miserable.

Krem chose to ignore the cries of dismay and attempts to leave to join other camps for the night. Instead, he forced them to prepare marching rations, strong-arming the agitated Knight Errant. It took Asterius all but sitting on the man to stop Cullen heading off to track down the missing Korrigan.

“The Nightingale won’t harm her," Krem insisted.

“If she even could,” Asterius muttered. Krem’s eyes flashed as Cullen tried to leave again.

“Little Korrigan will be fine.” The Horse Master had joined the group. He had decided to use the Chargers to keep his stock from being startled by drunken idiots.

It had proven a good thing too, for the Horse Master at least, as they were forced to move away from the smith's. The revellers had started to roam, and it became harder to keep the few beasts calm. It took a coordinated effort to relocate them away from the drunken soldiers and overly cheery villagers. The small clearing next to an almost finished trebuchet proved the right amount of calm.

The trebuchet remained almost finished until the Knight had taken a breath to stop fretting and notice the large toy Cassandra had been working on in his absence. The Chargers accepted the new task of finishing it off with rather more enjoyable than they had preparing the rations. 

The trebuchet was set up and loaded with a knitted nug Krem had made for Korrigan tied to a boulder ready to fly. It was at the moment that Asterius had been about to launch, Korrigan and Leliana reappeared. Korrigan beamed at them all and fluttered up to perch on top of the projectile. Asterius pursed his lips.

“No," The Knight snapped as the spy's hand wavered over the trigger. 

“Korrigan?” Asterius asked.

“No.” Krem pulled his boss away as it looked for a moment like the Knight would attack. Korrigan just looked happy, her legs dangling as she perched on top.

A loud crack rang out across the valley cutting through the moment. The lake gave way beneath the weight of the Templars and soldiers who had moved the celebrations to the wide expanse.

Another loud crack.

Korrigan fluttered high up, turning to where the soldiers and Templars were flailing. Behind them, tiny lights started to pour into the valley, crawling across the dark, heading in only one direction.

Alarm bells. Screams. The gates slammed shut.

“Where there were three, there are now two. Where there are two, there will only be one.” Korrigan spoke quietly as the Spy Mistress stared up at her, now as pale as the Harbinger.

“Get all you can gather in the time it takes for the lights to get to the lake. We’ll leave using the path that leads up this side. We will - we will do something. GO!” The Knight stepped forward as Korrigan fluttered high up to the tip of the trebuchet, watching to call the alarm.

Korrigan didn’t have to call out. The screech of a dragon performed a better service. The Chargers returned with a few stragglers who had been in the tavern and the alchemist. A straggly haired boy appeared in front of the Knight, who was busy co-ordinating the carts with supplies. Asterius was busy wrestling with the spooked beasts with the Horse Master. The rest were too far away to be rescued.

“You need to go. He doesn’t want you, never you. He wants the Harbinger, but he can not harm the Harbinger. He doesn’t understand. You need to go, you need to go now.” The boy pleaded with the Knight, pointing up the path.

“Noble Galahad, you must follow Compassion and do not turn back. The snows will not harm me now. Pelias is requesting my blessing. I will be pleased to offer it to him. Compassion will lead you to Asgard and The Korrigan will stop Pelias from harming her Galahad.” Korrigan commanded.

It had been enough for the Chargers, who had given the Knight no option. He was thrown into a cart, as they quickly marched up the side. There was nothing else left for them to do. The dragon had seen to that. The wooden defences fell easily to its breath.

The sound of death and destruction echoed after them as they made their way to safety, to the mountain line.

The sound of the Breach breaking had been the loudest thing that the Knight had ever heard until that moment. 

“RUN!” the boy screamed as they reached the top. 

The deafening roar echoed behind them. The world started to fall away, shuddering as the mountains lost their covering. Unable to look back, they pelted ever forward. The ground beneath them slipped, trying to steal them to drown in the valley behind, as they ran and ran and ran.

Running past the point where they could breathe, running past the point where they could feel. 

The silence. 

The mud, not snow.

They had lost. They had lost everything. 

And then… then Korrigan returned. And with Korrigan came a shrine. A shrine that bubbled with warm waters that soothed the wounds away. Warm sweet waters with fish that leapt out into eager hands to feed the aching bellies. Rich, heady waters that quenched the desolate thirst.

They had lost. Korrigan had come to save them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an epilogue.


	25. When Solas meets Frey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue : Set a while after the events at Haven.

Sometimes he found Korrigan’s reasoning bewildering; by sometimes he meant every time he stopped to truly think about it. She had sent him off to take Mythal’s power with a smile, pleased with herself, even after she had taken his power from him. It was no longer his power though; it hadn’t been since she had stopped the breach from expanding if he was honest with himself for just this moment. From then on, it had been hers, and only a matter of time before she stole it in its entirety from Corypheus.

Still, she had taken his power away, and yet she was thrusting him at Mythal so he may regain something. It made little sense, she had made it very clear that his original goal would never come to pass as long as Korrigan was there. Yet she was giving him a way in which he might at some point be in a position to do so.

He didn’t dare dream of a solution to the Korrigan problem, not after she had invited him in and shown him her true self. She was old, achingly old, older than anything that he had ever come across before. Older than this world. She soaked up power like a sponge, devouring it without hesitation. She had long since stopped being afraid of them, that much was clear since Haven, but she was simple, simple in her wants. That had been surprising, to find that this little ball of pure power, just wanted her own piece of peace.

So whilst she hadn’t been afraid, she had still acted her part, or perhaps it wasn’t an act, she still led her Knight round a merry dance, guiding him along a path that led him and the Wardens to a place where they were to the world what the Evanuris had been to the Dalish. A careful, complicated plan that she had been weaving from the moment she came through, playing each piece with thought and care. 

All for a few years that she had experienced centuries earlier in the world she had come from, that she had clung to so fiercely that overruled any other desire. He couldn’t pass judgement, she had made sure he understood that the scorn at his own desires to restore past glories whilst discounting hers. Well, she had torn through the memories with a dagger, making clear he saw all the hypocrisies.

And he believed her when she had shown him her grand plan, of finding a place like her home from the world that was no more. The nice pool with a waterfall, where she could live amongst the closest thing she had to kin and be visited by her shining Knights as they passed through. 

But she had pushed him to meet with Mythal, had forced it even. Having led them to the Well of Sorrows, to where his brethren had hidden, lost in the deep woods. Had forced it when she had Morrigan summon her mother, drawing his former friend out from hiding. The way Korrigan had hidden from Mythal. Korrigan had hidden like she had done back in Redcliffe, back at Val Royeaux, hidden as she had at Therinfal. Hidden in the way that lead the Knight to draw conclusions that he wasn’t sure were accurate, merely convenient.

“Poor Tam Lin must free himself from Queen of Faeries afore she looks him in the eye turns him into a tree” had been enough from Korrigan to have her Knight concerned for his safety. There had been no hesitation as to the plan to go and remove the threat. It was truly unsettling how easily the Knight accepted the truth according to Korrigan, but he would be a hypocrite to not acknowledge its usefulness. Solas would have been struck down dead when his own history had been revealed, but instead, it had been accepted as easily as if he had said he didn’t like cheese. 

Which led him to this place, the crossroads of his history, the ruins still there. Now instead of his people and spirits of old, new creatures lurked. Smaller sprites than Korrigan, bright and flashing, ready to lure the unwary off into what he could see was the gaping maw of something far bigger, the jagged rocks more likely teeth. It was teeming, teeming with life, with colour and fancy, different from it’s past, different but not worse. He even smiled as a mouse brigade led by small imp, imp was the word she had used before to describe the creature, forced him to stop else he interrupts the spectacle. Not that they paid him any mind, these little creatures, that lived so fearlessly, quick to bare teeth and fang when upset, and they got upset at the slightest thing, a pebble in the wrong place, a bird that sang the wrong note.

He was distracted, deliberately, from his task as he entered the glen, bare, unlike the surroundings, as if it rejected the occupant. Mythal, looking the essence of Dragon Queen, stood in quiet conversation with a tall male who looked as if he was a relation to their Knight or King. 

“My Pride, so the fates have finally led us to this point, I knew you would come, you should not have given your orb to Corypheus, dread wolf”

“I was too weak to unlock it after my slumber, the failure was mine, I should pay the price but, the people they need me, I am so sorry,” He fell at her feet, the true weight of what he had done, what he had wrought finally hitting him. For all he could blame Korrigan for this meeting, it had been he who had set the motion into play, without him she would never have been drawn to this world. And it would be his oldest and dearest friend who would pay the price.

“I am sorry as well, old friend,” her hand was soft and comforting as it embraced him in a way he didn’t deserve.

“I believe that you are both taking on a guilt that you do not need to,” The stranger spoke with the voice of one of those who Korrigan had mimicked in her dream, old, with weight and power, but less. Now that he spoke, Solas could see how he was like them, less than, lacking, faded from what they once were.

“My Pride, I introduce you to Frey, he who has travelled as far as the Harbinger,” he knew the name well, and he could feel himself bristling at the faded man.

”Ah, it was unwise to believe that you wouldn’t have heard only the bad. I had hoped that with the increase in call, perhaps she had rethought her decision.” He let the silence grow, until the god that was Frey spoke. “She calls you Loki, and from speaking with Mythal, it is not an unfair comparison. She has also invoked Idunn, it was enough to allow me passage, the creaking of the gap,”

“She will kill you if nothing else, of that I am certain.” He was expecting something more than the familiar haunted expression that he saw in himself.

“She would kill Odin, Vili and Ve, but the Vanir she was more peaceful towards, and Loki, Loki was never at risk.” He slowly drew his sword, “Perhaps I am mistaken, but before she left for this place, Loki came across my sword, in a lake, an old lake, one that has a history for the Korrigan,”

“You say this, and yet she sent me here to slay Mythal, whom she has done everything to avoid meeting and yet still hates due to her godlike nature.”

“There are some fates that not even a god can avoid, Mythal was always slated to die by your hand, as Odin to that of Fenrir, and Thor to Jorgamundr. The giant tear in the sky would have happened without my interference, just as Mythal was betrayed by her kin. Some things fate weaves to keep the balance as it should be. Korrigan was born of a tear, she sees all things as they can be, she just chooses not to look. But if you think that she wouldn’t have seen me here, then you are as willfully blind as her Galahad.”

“Peace my Pride, you are as much to blame as the butterfly for the storm. All things must come to pass eventually,” she was as she had always been, the Mother.

“Mythal has kindly allowed me knowledge of a place in the land where we might live quietly. The Hunterhorn Mountains in the Anderfels, where Korrigan’s golden Knights can keep a stern eye on us as she would see fit.” a moment that stretched, “My Lady Mythal, I must thank you for your wisdom, and we shall honour you in the annals of our history,” he swept into a low bow, placing a kiss upon her hand.

“My Pride, I ask only this, that you will petition the Korrigan on behalf of Frey, and for this price, you may take what you came here for without guilt.” a look shared between the two still standing before Frey retreated back to where the wild things lurked outside of the clearing.

“Solas, my Dreaded Wolf, the fates have conspired for this to be our last meeting, I have made my peace, I only offer you this as comfort, you have no longer anything to fear.” she pressed a kiss upon his brow, before forcing the power into him, falling into him as he filled with her gifted power.

The man had the decency to wait until they were clear of the glen before falling into step alongside him. Offering him nothing more than silence as they made their way back towards the gateway that had brought him here. It was comforting to see the lack of regard the creatures gave Frey, as they did himself. The creatures that showed no fear, only bristling at perceived slights that made him think of Korrigan in her fits of pique.

“She was always fond of the lutins, the underfae, it was no surprise to feel their presence here,” Frey remarked as they both stopped as two small brown sticklike beings tussled in the middle of the path over what looked like a pebble. One managed to grasp it from the other, prancing off radiating smugness whilst the other hopped up and down making small screeching noises. “Retrievers, no doubt another has need of the stone for some purpose, so they will keep it nice and safe, although there is only one stone, so of course as all little ones do, they will squabble to have the stone,” 

“She has said the Os lack of respect for anything that isn’t them,” Solas couldn’t help but speak, buzzing with power whilst still torn by the events that had brought him to it.

“Ah, you misunderstand my words, it is not disrespect I offer, merely an acknowledgement. They have a purpose, and they do their purpose well. They do not have the same understanding as you or I, or even as a man might, to them the world is as complicated as their purpose. There is little shame in this.”

“And you would have me believe it is as this way for the Korrigan?” he turned to address Korrigan’s torturer, who had the decency not to stand as close to force him to strain his neck meeting his eyes.

“Now lad, you draw conclusions from words that I did not speak,”

“Did you not say she preferred these creatures?”

“These are the creatures that pay no allegiance to the gods, these are the beings that lay claim to the Jotun and Ymir than to us, that was merely why I spoke so. The little Korrigan has always been a complicated entity.” 

“And yet the Korrigan claims that you did not truly know her,” It was easier to rail at Frey than to focus too hard on the previous events. The Retriever moving on so that they may continue onwards, pausing only to watch as a blue sylphlike creature with gossamer blue-green wings hovered in front of the Eluvian, gazing at it.

“A Liminal Fae, blessings indeed on our passage.” Frey bowed deeply to her, three times her height, but she accepted with the grace of a Queen, pressing her lips to the glass before moving away. “Does anyone truly know anyone else?”

“You call the Korrigan a complicated entity,”

“Korrigan is known to some of us from old, that I will attest to,” a heartbeat, then two more, “Korrigan is not the Mother as Ymir was the Father, but she is the oldest of us, the oldest of all of us, and yet to those who do remember, she is the youngest.”

“And now it is like listening to her speak, are you now going to spout out Korrigan, once The Korrigan then one of many before just one, too? Is it a wonder that her presence has caused concern when all we have is confusion and circular words.”

“How quickly you defend then attack her.” Even with his new power, he was unsure he could best this still God for all his faded presence as it billowed up. Until - they both deflated, the image of the two small creatures battling over a stone springing to the forefront of both of their minds.

“Peace, ask your questions and I shall do my best not to hide behind words, I owe you that for all I have done.” Frey seemingly jovial far quicker than was settling.

“It would appear that this needs to be done elsewhere however, as it would seem our presence is no longer required. I would ask that when we leave this place, you do not stray from my side, I will be unable to protect you should the Korrigan’s Knight catch you.” more strange and colourful fae had started to gather near the mirror, crowding them with the coordinated actions of predators closing their prey into an easy to feed on ball.

“I shall abide by your judgment in this matter,” the god who was Frey made sure to bow to all of the small and large Fae, which did little more than make them slow further as they both exited through. “The other thing with those who come from Ymir rather than the Os, they show little fear, even when outmatched. It’s why they are Loki’s favoured too, I admit to a healthy respect for them. But I much prefer your brethren, my ljósálfar, even if they did cower away in my realm when times grew harder.” 

The room was deserted when they returned through into Skyhold, as was the route through to his rooms, almost suspiciously so. Frey showed little hesitation bar a shiver as they exited the rich air of the roads to the weaker of this ancient place. He chose to continue the conversation in the small library which had a fire already lit, with a cask of honeyed mead, rustic breads and fresh fish provided that confirmed Frey’s comment: Korrigan knew he was here.

“It would appear that I owe you answers, ask away,” Now that Solas had permission to do so that would gain him actual answers he was unsure what he wanted to know. Cole had tried to help before, but there was something that kept holding him back.

“We have heard from the Korrigan, heard from Korrigan, as to how the gods turned on their kin and slew them. Will you do so again here?” He would see how clear the answer Frey offered was before asking the questions he had lurking deep below.

“I can only imagine how that was told,” there was a bitter twist to Frey’s lips as he ripped apart a hunk of bread and dipped it into the oily mess that coated the fish. “The shortest answer is that no, the gods haven’t slain kin since the Aesir and the Vanir made peace, the warmongers amongst us will be slain at the final battle as is fated and will not avoid their fate. There is little to fear in that regard.”

“If that is the shortest, then will you share the longer?”

“Do you know the story of Creation, our creation that is, not your own?”

“In the beginning, there was nothing but ice and poison and from the ice came the being that is Ymir?” There was a hesitation before Frey nodded.

“Ymir was what became referred to as the Primordial, and often with Primordial comes the word evil. Many believe that the Creation of all came from the Primordial Evil that was Ymir.”

“And yet Korrigan tells a different tale.” Solas felt the need to point out.

“Does a little girl see her father as evil, unless he has been shown beyond the shadow of a doubt to her that he is, and even then, does she truly believe?”

“Korrigan is Ymir’s daughter?” That he hadn’t been expecting. He had believed as Varric had when they had discussed it, with Amund and Amell, that Korrigan was most likely one of the four nains that propped up the world, forced into servitude by Odin which accounted for her rage towards him.

“Ah, that came as a surprise it seems. Perhaps daughter is the wrong word, but Ymir is her creator, and if he was father to the three Jotun that sprang forth from his body, then he is for Korrigan who was his fourth,” he paused to pick at the fish with his fingers tearing into the meaty flesh eagerly.

“Korrigan is Ymir’s fourth child?”

“Sixth in all of Creation, Ymir the first, Audhumla the second, then the three that sprang forth from betwixt his arms and legs, and the Korrigan the sixth, who rolled from his eye as he supped on the teat of the cow.” 

“And Odin slew her Creator, her Father as you put it?”

“You are skipping past the reason why, and you have asked for the longer explanation. Korrigan is as tiny as she ever was and Ymir was mighty. If he even noticed her creation for the first moments it would have been as much of an occasion as when Audhumla did lick Buri into existence. By the oldest accounts, the little Korrigan hid for the longest time, too small to be anything but at threat around the tallest of the Jotun. She would hide and sleep amongst the ice and poison until the Jotun were plentiful.

“She was fascinated by them, this was clear to all who remembered her from the first days, but for Ymir, she was but a moth drawn to the flame.” Frey broke off to pour from the cask, “Forgive me, do you know of her particular quirks when it comes to menfolk?”

“Beyond that, the first thing she spoke to her Knight after we were formally introduced was that he was not to fall in love with her? Nothing else, she has shown little interest in matters of the flesh,” 

“The Korrigans who came much later, the maidens that were known as the nine were all wanton but the Korrid-Gwen, Korrigan is untouched. They all have a peculiar quirk in which they are able to enmesh the most constant swain and doom them to die of love for her,” They both drank at this, a cold chill passing through his bones that had little to do with the chill of the stone.

“Should I be afraid for the Lady’s Knight? Or the King she has pushed into so much power?” Solas almost didn’t want to ask, they were men, had been men. Now they were other and almost kin.

“The Knight has a different love than that of a swain, I would gather. The King from all accounts is as mad for his Merlin as Arthur had been. Korrigan was always very careful, wanting little more than to live quietly, although she was attracted to certain beings for that there is no doubt. Arthur held a most constant fascination, from the moment of his birth she buzzed at the outskirts of his life; Boudicca another. Korrigan was pulled from her solitude to flirt with history before retiring to grieve when it ended as mortal lives do.”

“How exactly does this relate to the original question?” Solas wouldn’t deny it intrigued, but he was being led a merry dance for little reason.

“Odin, who was born from Borr who was born from Burri, who in turn had been licked into existence by the sacred Cow. Began to see evil in Ymir as he did begat his own childer, began to see the danger in Ymir. Ymir was not a creature as you and I, nor as the underfae, the lutin nor Jotun, he was a being that was born solely from poison and ice. He cared little for his kin, and littler still for his smallest of children, Korrigan. Until she became interesting. He had created the dwarves, to do his bidding as his children would not, like ants swarming around their queen, mindless, acting only upon his whims. He became jealous of the prowess of his children’s children, began to act out as a creature who was pure poison would.

“Korrigan had with the creation of the dwarves, the beings that were only a little bigger than herself, had grown bold enough to bat around Ymir. Drinking in his presence as if she survived upon it, and he began to notice. Because of all things, Korrigan is a bonny wee thing, and what man doesn’t listen when a golden-haired lass flutters at him, looking at him as if he is her whole world,” Solas had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going, and for a moment he wavered between changing the subject.

“Odin was now a father, with his own offspring, and with it came a fathering instinct, or so he would have you believe. We are all heroes in our own tales are we not. Still, if it was the threat that Ymir showed to Odin’s own, or the unnatural attention he began to show to Korrigan, or a combination of both? Odin was able to sway his brothers into slaying the Primordial one.”

“You would have me believe that a being that is described as large enough to form a whole world, would be able to despoil something so small as Korrigan?” 

“Ymir was larger than I, but he was not the size of a world, the brothers three moulded his essence into the world, and Korrigan can change shape, it was how she remained hidden during the difficult beginning.”

“And yet she chooses to be as she is?” he was granted a disappointed look.

“When Mythal changed you, did you not feel wrong to yourself? She is her size, to be bigger, stretches her, makes her thinner, lesser throughout. Loki describes when he alters his size when he goes smaller he feels cramped and tight, and when he grows larger stretched and thin.” Solas was seemingly forgiven as more mead was served.

“So Ymir was killed for Korrigan?” a shake of Frey’s head.

“No, Ymir was slain because for the gods to rise he had to go when he was killed perhaps, but he was as slated to die as we all are. Or were.”

There was a long pause as they quietly drank, Frey still ripping away at the flesh of the fish. “Those of us who were not begotten by Buri’s kin were tolerated more by Korrigan. By tolerated I mean to say, that Loki was able to keep track of her, and we were not all cursed, not so completely.”

“So you are aware of the origins of Ragnarok?” There was a very awkward silence.

“You mean, how Odin brought it upon him as Ymir’s death curse.” 

Solas stilled as Frey held a hand up as he went to speak.

“I like to think those of us who remained on friendly terms with the Jotun are predisposed to not want to cause another war that would end with all our destruction. Which is why it was reassuring to have been handed back my sword that had gone missing, my sword that should it have remained lost would have ensured my own death. Idunn came to me as soon as she felt a pull from this realm, though it means that we will have to find our places in with the newest order.” Frey sounded relaxed as he spoke of world-ending events.

“The Warden’s have been about since shortly after the first Blight,” Solas needed to correct him, wrong-footed now more than ever. 

“You misunderstand me, surely you felt it, the change that must have occurred?” 

“Speak plainly, assume that I do not know. Korrigan has been closed mouth over all of her plans, barring that of her desire of a home.” This drew a smile from the large god.

“Ah, a leafy pool no doubt, with surprisingly still waters for a place with a mighty fall. That she will litter with shiny fancies, as I said the youngest in many ways of us all. Idunn, Idunn is the goddess of Youth and Apples - ah, yes, perhaps now you are beginning to see.”

“Korrigan gifted the Knights of the Round Table with a golden apple, as a reward when her Knight returned with Griffon eggs.”

“To which there is no doubt they each ate a sliver, and she saved the core, with her Knight, her Arthur and Merlin with the larger shares?”

“A whole apple each, though there is never any cores left when Korrigan is around, she claimed that I would not suit the apple with my history,” Frey gave him a roguish shrug.

“You seem to be in fairly good shape, perhaps in another few millennia, you might want to ask her again. Idunn’s apples keep us young, kept us young, in the history of Korrigan’s Arthur they were to said to have had the ability to turn a mortal into a, well no longer mortal.” He let that sink in whilst he finished off the last of the fish, “We seem to be nowhere near the sea, and yet this tasted of the deepest waters?”

“Korrigan enjoys fresh fish when she feeds on the flesh of beings, I heard rumours that there were fish in the well, and there have been sightings of what has been described as flying fish coming up the waterfall of the castle,” Frey started bellowing with laughter, “It was a concern at first when we arrived that the castle wouldn’t be able to support us through the winter months. However, the orchards keep fruit throughout, succulent soft fruits, a definite lean towards the sweeter darker ones, that Korrigan delights in. We have never wanted for fish, which as we are so high up and away from the rivers below, was quite the surprise if you did not take into account the way fish seem to appear whenever we are by water.”

“By her home, was a very successful, small vineyard, where the grapes were always sweet and dark, which supplied us with the very best of wines for when we had feast days,” Frey mentioned casually.

“And was she aware of this?”

“Who is to say what she is and isn’t aware of? If she had cared to see then perhaps, but she was still deep in mourning on the passing of the last of her favoured, a playwright who had delighted her so. With his death she retreated from the land she had called home for so long, she took up with the sadder beings from there on; the disgraced. When the Great War tore apart her new homeland, the barriers closed, only Loki was able to keep track of how she was, and she didn’t recover before the second of the wars came back to defile the land.” Frey grimaced, “Sometimes, I wonder if we were right, we created man from the bones of an act against evil, but not for the right reasons. The horrors they can commit, against each other, puts whatever evil Ymir was reported to have done or was due to do, to shame.”

“She talks about them as evil when she is drawn into a conversation about it,”

“Evil some, misguided more so, but as creators perhaps we should take some of the blame? Instead of sitting back and reaping in the rewards of worship - we liked that part a lot, for what are you if you do not have people to tell you how wonderful you are, how powerful. And then, as we did to our creator, they turned away. They forgot, and we faded, no longer as we had once been, now tucked away quietly reliving past glories. 

“Others came and went, with several proving dominance above others. The fae, the Elves did well for longer, until progress took even that, and so most of them came to hide with us, leaving all but the stubborn in their homes. Korrigan, who would have cut off her own wings before retreating to our sides, that was never an option for her. She carefully cultivated her own small land, just enough to keep the name Korrigan on the lips of the country, enough to sustain that she could keep safe. The others that survived were far nastier, the creatures that lurk in the shadows, that you are taught to fear at your mother's knee, the creatures we were prayed to for protection against...”

“There were other worlds that we could have retreated to. A world that was created as one small island nation who ruled most of that world. There was the world that was created out of the void, sung into existence by a God who appeared as a Lion; this place was destroyed by the foible of man by the time the second of the great wars came to an end. There are other worlds that are not yet ready, or were and have destroyed themselves in an endless cycle.”

“So we are to be grateful for your patronage?” Solas kept his tone as neutral as he could, though he doubted it remained very.

“You wished to bring back your brethren who you imprisoned for crimes that you believed unforgivable. Perhaps instead, you will welcome us in their place, we who just want to live quietly, in a world that isn’t destroying itself?” Frey made it sound so reasonable.

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door, then before he had chance to answer it crept open, “My Lord, the Inquisitor bids you to bring your guest to the hall to be introduced now that he has had time to adjust and be fed.” There was a small groan from the god who looked at the food and mead, before nodding slowly at the now mischievous looking Dwarven servant.

“You may tell the Korrigan that I will abide by the rules,” 

They entered the Great Hall, his great hall that once was, now garbed in Ferelden Warden Regalia, a proud statement to where the loyalties lay. Korrigan’s Knight perched on the throne, with Korrigan curled up in his lap, her wings on full display, her hair freshly brushed, and her shift still white, which considering he could see evidence of fruit dropped over the side was an impressive feat that he was sure Cadash had more to do with than Cullen.

“Inquisitor, Harbinger, my mission is complete and I brought back with me Frey, who is once of Midgard and Alfheim.” He gave his perfunctory bow, of which they had agreed as a compromise after the Ambassador had railed at them at the lack of respect they showed in the official engagements to each others roles.

“I am pleased to see you return unharmed, though I admit to feeling some unease at having one of the Vanir in our halls, I have been assured that he has agreed to act as guest and will not act against us until he leaves.” The Knight spoke, his words ringing like a bell through the hall.

“It was my intent to do so, and I will abide by the Lady Korrigan’s kindness doubly so. Thrice so I will vow to act honourably and do no harm to you and yours.” the air crackled as the words settled.

Korrigan granted Frey a beatific smile, “And they lived happily ever after,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have a lot of authors notes, I don't know if anyone would be interested in reading them (if you made it this far). I always knew where it was going to end up, although the Solas meeting Frey happened one night out of the blue. Korrigan haunted me for about six months, I know what she looks like, I know how she sounds, and I worry that she's manipulated me the entire time. 
> 
> There are more snippets and short stories to be told within the Korrigan verse, but none that need telling now. I've had this finished for a few months now and just avoided uploading for various reasons. But it is complete. I do feel very odd about it.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
